Creative Writing: Blindly Divided

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The sun shone into my room while the wind made the blinds smack against the windows loudly, as if it was trying to get me to wake up. I turned to the other side of the bed and stared directly across the street. Instead of seeing a peaceful, quiet street, it gave me a view of the house opposite, surrounded by bright yellow police tapes. It took me a while to get my eyes readjusted. I then tried to read the words without my glasses, but I obviously needed them. I quickly put them on while I stared at the window, observing carefully what had really happened to my neighbours. Windows were smashed, traces of blood could be seen. It was evident that someone broke into their house and killed the whole family. However, there were no footprints to be…show more content…
Whilst looking into the mirror, I spotted a hint of blood on my clothes. It has been like this for the past few days. Without hesitation, I went into the shower and took my clothes off. Breakfast was already ready by the time I got downstairs. Mum then looked at me and asked, ‘Did you hear about the Robinsons? I cannot believe that the whole family got murdered. They really did not deserve it.’ Instead of replying, I just shrugged and went along with her. I did not feel well that day. I guess my bleeding disorder was becoming worse. It was Saturday, so I just went running around the blocks after breakfast since it was a beautiful and pleasant day. Running took my mind off things, things I did not want to think about or remember. The breeze whooshed past my ears as I ran, hearing nothing but the wind and birds chirping. It felt great. I did not even realise that I was running faster than a speeding bullet until I tripped on a crushed rock, left on the…show more content…
I kept questioning myself how my fingerprints got there. Maybe the murderer knew me? Or did I sleep walk into my neighbour’s house? That is not possible at all. I was so focused on myself that I did not even hear what the policemen were saying. I then snapped out of my mind and the officer said, ‘Mr Brown? Did you hear what I said? I asked where and what were you doing on Wednesday evening?’ I then replied slowly, trembling while I spoke, ‘I was at home, doing my homework. It was like a typical school night. You can even ask my mum.’ I sounded like a desperate puppy yelping for help. Mum’s voice echoed across the hallway, shouting, ‘Where is my son? He did not do anything wrong! Let me see him right
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