The Bloody Knife - Original Writing

The next thing I know, I’m going in a cell in the police station . Being confused why I was there, I asked why, and the response I got was “you're going to court in half hour”. IN half in hour,I was in trial for stealing money and counterfeiting. By the end of the trial I was sentenced to 20 years of Juvy.

I'm not feeling very good about this. I feel like I did something horrible even though I didn’t do what they assumed I did. My body feels very cold, tired, and I am shivering, although my face feels warm and cozy. I see scratches on the walls from the past people who have been here, waiting for their inevitable interrogation, and possibly sentencing. I am by myself in this cell. I feel very annoyed, as me being at the party put me in this position in the first place. I’ll make sure to think twice before hanging out with them again. I really hope that a person that actually did an illegal thing doesn’t get placed in the same jail cell that I am in right now, or that would be pretty uncomfortable. I can hear the conversations of the check-in

On February 10, 2015 I was admitted to West Regional Hospital for being suicidal. My friend, Sadye,  told the counselors about how I had temptations to drive off the road and hurt myself. I was then escorted to the hospital by two police officers. After I got to the hospital, I was met by a third police officer who took me up the elevator. When we finally arrived at the decided floor, a lady took me into a room to ask me many questions about suicide and what led me to it. After the interview, I had to wear clothes that looked like a purple prisoner-like outfit. I wasn't allowed to have any outside items like jewelry, cell phones, or even my own pair of socks. I stayed in the hospital for a little over a week, everyday I had to fill out paperwork

It was nice to see a letter from you. I am typing this letter because my handwriting is really bad. Crazy how they guys you are in jail with are at war between each other. Shaking my damn head- Virginia against North Carolina. It’s funny because that’s the reason why some of them are in there. Plain old ignorance. Do you think everyone in Virginia and North Carolina gives a fuck about who representing them? Cause they aren’t reppin them. I use to have that mentality when I was younger out here in New York that Brooklyn against Queens drama. WHO GIVES A FUCK. FUCK EM BOTH! If they loved ya that much they would bail all your asses out of jail. Forget that LOL!! Its every man for themselves. You have to take care of yourself in there and stay away from

Everything went black. A stream of warmth trickled past my lip. As I ran my hand across the warmth, I quickly realized it was blood. My first feeling was panic, and my heart dropped. Maybe it was just a bloody nose. Running my hands across my face and through my hair, I soon realized it was much more than a bloody nose. Legs weak, body numb, and a blood pouring past my lips, I knew something was terribly wrong. Struggling to get back on my feet, all I could see were the looks of panic etched across my friends’ faces.

The semi-truck fired up, spilling out dark exhaust. I got in my car. I began to look at the interior closer. It was well used, the seats were torn and stained, the steering wheel flaked in my hand to reveal the foam beneath. A single key sat nicely on the center of the dashboard. I lay my gun against the passenger seat, the trigger facing towards me in case I needed to grab it in a hurry. I started the car up and rolled down the windows, allowing the air to flow through.

Out the window and down the fire escape, twenty floors was nothing at this point, and considering police would have to get here and go all the way up to the top, I was in the clear. As I slide down the ladder to the ground, I heard the sirens pulling up in the front, perfect timing, I walked out the alley, taking off my hoodie and slowly joining the crowd forming behind the cop cars. “The best place to hide is in plain sight,” something grandpa told me that I'll never forget, though considering I was a college student with a backpack in New York, blending in was a given. Making my way to the side of the crowd, trying to catch a word of what the officers were saying. “Suspect, average height, weight, witness says all they saw was a shadow going out the window.

Once my lawyer got there she told me.” They will put you on the death sentence unless you plead mentally ill.” But I told her I couldn’t. All she said was “Go to an asylum or die.” So that night in the cell I thought and thought all I could think about was how I could get out of a mental facility, then I got it. I would just say I wasn’t crazy after a couple of weeks there.

Screams. That’s all I could hear. I didn’t notice until someone pulled me down and clapped a hand over my mouth, that those screams were mine. Someone spun me around, and I found myself looking into the eyes of my best friend.

They end up locking me in a metal room, tightly hand cuffed to a table and left alone behind a thick steel door. I’m out of the cuffs in a matter of

“The Knife that Killed Me” is a fictional book by Anthony McGowan. The main characters name is Paul Varderman and he has conflict with his own self. He is a loner at school and finds himself in a situation with the school bully, Roth. Paul tries to stay on the low side and not be noticed. He is also an innocent teenager. Roth finds Paul to be very useful and uses him to deliver a message to a gang at a nearby school. This is where the rivalry between the two schools begin. Paul does not fit in with the gang but he finds a way to. He is stuck in between the gangs and feels he has so much power when all of a sudden Roth gives him a knife to show that he is a part of his gang. This book is well developed and fast paced. It is kind of violent with

Steele opened the front door and walked over the threshold. Oddly, no one greeted him upon his entry because the two men that usually did were dead. Their bodies rested motionless on the floor, lacking the pleasant liveliness Steele knew. Steele approached the two door guards lying facedown on the floor and then carefully examined their bodies, hoping that he would find what killed his comrades. But their bodies lacked bullet and stab wounds, and there was no blood staining their black suits and pants. Even the wooden walls and floor remained immaculate.

All across the bathroom were footsteps smeared with blood. Sodden ripped scraps of paper littered the floor. Stunned, my eyes wandered the linoleum, then shot to the far corner. There, slumped down with an arm dangling over the sink was Justin. His

The exact date of the arrest was May 5, 2014; I was a sophomore in high school and I was invited to a birthday party. The environment of the party nurtured a sense of recklessness and carelessness which unfortunately convinced me that it was acceptable to consume large amounts of alcohol. After the party ended, one of my friends dropped me off at a friend's house, and at that point, I was too intoxicated to control myself, eventually leading me to lose consciousness. During this strange and horrific blackout, I began to panic and perceived that I was in danger. As a result, I felt the intense urge to defend myself, causing me to act aggressively towards anything that was in my way. This aggressive behavior caused me to stumble upon other people's

A month past like that. I honestly don’t remember it. I was basically. Wake up, wash my face and brush your teeth. Answer some questions, Speak to my lawyer, Go back to my cell. Eat and sleep. The officer finally dragged me to the courtroom. I've been accused for murdering my friends. My lawyers have been trying find ways to prove that I was innocent. My case was in abeyance because they couldn’t find any evidence that I was the killer and they couldn’t prove that I wasn’t. Basically I am a professional murder who knows how to clean my tracks up very well