Westerberg: A Short Story

If you read page 245, O’brien’s closing statement reads, “The State did elicit from Steve that he spoke to Mr.King about basketball. The conversation were short, and without substance. At no time did the State establish any conversation between Steve and anyone else about a robbery.”. Even though Steve has had small talk with James, there is no proof that they’ve talked about planning the robbery. On page 51, there’s a flashback between a woman named Peaches, a man named Johnny, King, and Steve. King did mention the difficulties of getting money and the only thing Steve did was agree to just that. Nothing more, nothing less. Then, Peaches, Johnny, and King spoke about is money.

It was a hard rain that woke him up, the pitter patter on the windows and the clunking against the metal shackles. Tennent lifted his head off his blocky, drink stained pillow and headed toward the door. The sound of glass breaking whistled behind him as the liquor bottles sprung off his bed, being dragged by the blanket he held onto, like the pain and regret that were held in the shards would always follow him. He finally reached the door as he turned the bolts to lock as he always forget too, and started crawling to the mini refrigerator that hid in the back corner of the room. As Tennent crawled to the iced bar he remembered why he was only supposed to stay in this over expensive motel for a few nights, having to help his mother though the latest and recent flu that’s been going around.

One-thirty on a Thursday morning. I laid in bed worrying, after watching John rush to Main Street for a fire call. My head spun as the pager near my head continued to dispatch calls. “Be careful on the roof Watson, I can see light through,” Feltner’s voice echoed. Ambulance sirens boomed down a four-block stretch of Main Street. My body sprung from the bed and hurried out and down the block. My face began to fill with heat. Just then another page came through, “I know idiot, I put it there.” It was John’s voice. I felt relief and began to walk back down the sidewalk to our home. I heard a young girl screaming for her dog, hysterically. Finally, back in my house, I completely forgot that I had left the two girls upstairs. Thankfully,

A kidnapping. Five hours later the daughter of media tycoon James Alexander was safe home, the kidnapper shot, and a fat pay delivered. For once I wouldn't break the cash for beer since Tom had lost the bet to determine what drug was in the packet we had stolen from a crime scene of a past case. It was Ketamine and it apparently makes you shit your pants. We retire back to the office, which is now Tom's apartment since his latest ex kicked him out. A lunch of cheap cornerstone kebabs and we go on to retrieve a bag of DNA samples we had sent last night for examination at the National Crime Agency, who let us use their facilities if in turn we took on the more discreet cases. Their examination of the evidence is enough to confirm that our suspect was indeed guilty. It goes as per usual; run around the city, get said suspect, get in some trouble but not enough to put the case in danger, deliver the suspect to authorities. Case closed.

It was a pleasant fall Tuesday when Stephanie went to work. Her day normal consisted of writing reports, and filing paperwork for her office. She turned on the television to see if there was anything alluring in the news. “NEWS FLASH: MAN CONVICTED OF MURDER HAS ESCAPED PRISON.” The warning did not phase her, considering the jail was far from her office. She concluded that she was safe. By four o’clock, it was time for her to travel home from a laborious day of work. She arranged her things into her bag, and began her trek. Walking out the door, she was met with warm rays from the sun. It was an astounding way to end a strenuous

Eight days. They kept him secure under lock and key for eight days. “It’s for your protection,” “He can’t hurt you anymore,” “You will receive justice,” everyone claimed. How little they knew. . .

Evie hopped off the bus with a renewed sense of purpose. “I came here to succeed. Not to worry about home,” she thought to herself. She was feeling driven and ready to begin anew here, in a foreign land with foreign people, people who don’t know her or her legacy. She looked around at the lively street scene before her. The signs were vibrant and their brilliance drew her closer and closer to the center of town. The entire city seemed to be moving towards her, and an endless sea of men and women spewed out of the buildings and down the block. The congested streets keep her pace slow, but her mind was racing with new thoughts and ideas. The gridlocked traffic finally allowed for some leeway, and Evie found her way out of the fray and across

The men in the booth behind him started to talk after they had received their drinks. John was having a hard time trying not to listen in on the conversation that the two men were having. He was drifting in and out the conversation and some of the things he heard were unusual. One mentioned something about some sort of chemicals and blowing everything up. John knew he had to report what he had just heard, and he also knew that thousands of lives depended on it. Now John had to decide on whether or not to get up and leave his booth risking being noticed by these men. He had made his decision, John had to leave. He slinked out of the safety of his seat and carefully made his way past the two menacing men. “HEY!” yelled one of the men. They had just realised where John had come from. They scrambled out of their booth and chased him out of the restaurant and down the street. John ran as fast as a cheetah chasing its prey, terror gripped him like a vice. He could hear the two men getting closer, their rasping breathing was just behind him. He had to think quickly, how could he elude them? He nearly slipped over as he turned a corner. John felt like he just died inside because he now faced a dead end. He ran down the alley way looking desperately for somewhere to hide, but there was nothing. The two men grabbed him and threw him up against a wall, one of the men whispered in his ear, “No eves dropping,” before hitting him over and over. John could feel his vison fading as he sponged punches but stayed

"No, he committed no crime --,” Stevie answered from across the room, “You see, all he was guilty of was passing the business card to someone who hated the thief a tad bit more than he did. He had no idea the man would end up dead and there wouldn’t be a prosecutor in the world that could prove he did.”

Once upon a time, there was a man who lived in Flatlands in Brooklyn. His name was Georgevitch and for a living, he worked as a security guard for MetLife Insurance at 200 Park Avenue in Manhattan. He worked six nights a week patrolling around the building. One night he was patrolling the building and he thought to himself that there was no need for him. For several weeks, absolutely nothing had happened. Many things were going through his head. He was earning 25 dollars an hour. And that was better than what anyone else could offer him. Except for two things. He had shoplifted a couple of times and made a decent amount of money. Another time he had forged fake cheques. So, he could withdraw random people’s money. He was never caught, but his face was caught by cameras at the bank. He is still wanted by the police.

It was monday 2:00 at United States Penitentiary Tucson, Arizona One harsh prison. There was one man named Joe Malfoy. Joe was an ordinary man one of his kind he was locked away for life after robbing 16 banks with a crew called the president's. These guys are One of the most wanted guys in history. Joe was caught when they were robbing a bank in colorado springs around 12:00 they got into the bank robbing the 2 vaults in the back of the bank after the money was grabbed they all ran out. The 4 members drove off with two lamborghinis split up in pairs. Around 10 minutes later the car the Joe was in the tire was hit by bullet and flipped over. Joe was stuck from a piece of metal that hit his shoulder. The other crew members drove off as the cops drove around the corner. Joe could not do anything the cops were just behind them.

The reason for this is that Steve never really agreed to be a part of the robbery but James

In a small town of New England a close-knit family lives in the outskirts of town enjoying all that nature has to offer. Told as a narrative through David Appleton’s log we learn a lot about him, his wife Jen, and their three children Mia, Sarah and Sam. Additionally, we meet many more characters through David’s numerous veterinarian calls. In great detail we are witnessed to both the delightful and unpleasant perks of David’s work. Oddly, an unknown caller turns up randomly throughout the novel. The strength of the family is tested once a terrible hunting accident lands Sam in a comma. During David’s obsessive search to find out who hurt Sam he often believes the unknown caller knows what happened to

I stared out from the dirty car window and I sat in my parked car across the road from the slaughter house. Hundreds of cows milled aimlessly with glazed eyes, through dust clouds of the overturned earth. I watched as several other cars pulled up behind mine, checking in my rear view mirror to see a familiar face. Bianca in her little yellow bug looked so out of place on this filthy dirt road. Today was going to be the day we put a stop to the slaughter. Bianca stepped out of her car and I watched as she slowly walked towards the fence of the slaughter house. A man parked further behind us called out something illegible but she took no heed.

Two weeks later Darcy and William had escaped from a cell at Central Police Court, in which William was facing court for being in possession of the gun during the robbery of the women at Paddington. This escape embarrassed authorities and three warders were fired from the public service. But Darcy and William were still on the run and they needed money.