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Gothic Writing. My name is Rachel Tyler. I am twenty three years old. Today is the day I will die

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Introduction

Gothic writing My name is Rachel Tyler. I am twenty three years old. Today something happened, something big, something life changing. Until today, I have never had any reason to consider how I would die. Until today. Still I search for all the answers. After all that searching, I still have as little as when I started. And when I do finally find all that I have been searching for, that is when it will be too late. My name is Rachel Tyler. I am twenty three years old. Today is the day I will die. * * * My mother's front door is locked. This means one of two things, she is in her photography studio taking refuge in the creativity and solitude, or there is something wrong. My mother rarely locks her door, she sees little point in trying to keep people out. As a child I had never questioned this, it was just normality. I fumble in my pocket for my key and groan as I hear them jangle on the bitter slabs beneath me. In the dense blackness I can not see where they have fallen; I crouch down to pick them up. ...read more.

Middle

Jerking away from it, I feel the gun crack against my temple, and a strong male voice speaks from above me. 'Be still.' Immediately I tense my body and try to sit up. I feel a powerful arm push me back down. 'Or you're dead.' They pick up my bag from the edge of the kitchen, a robbery. I stop myself saying anything just in time, and hear the rustle of them rummaging around in my bag; my computer, my camera, my laptop. I hear the sound of my laptop turning on, louder than my own ragged breathing. Then a few long seconds of silence, fingers tapping on a keyboard. I want to ask what they want, what they are doing here, with me, why they killed my mother, but I can not. Fear of what the answers may be chain my lips tightly. The gun pushes me further forward so I am almost touching my mother's dead jaw. The smell of her blood burns my nostrils; I bite my lip to stop myself gagging. I want to turn round and see my captivator's faces, but this is an impossibility. The noose around my neck tightens, pulling savagely into my throat, and I feel my pulse throbbing against it. ...read more.

Conclusion

The seconds wash around me, each coated in the death of my mother and the loss of her being. Watching the car door open I keep still. A tall, lanky man in an expensive suit and thinning grey hair climbs out. He walks as a man who knows what he wants, and where he's going to get it. His eyes pierce into me; stealing my thoughts. The pupils dart around to take in their surroundings. His shoes are polished to perfection, and even his tie looks ironed. All I can do is watch as he walks briskly towards me. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Feeling myself being grabbed from behind, I do not fight. There is no point, I am weak and the force of their arms pushes forcefully against me. I know nothing of what is happening here today, with these people I may find the answers I so desperately need. Answers to why my mother was murdered, answers to why I have been targeted, answers. My body gives in as they march me down the path to the car. The door is opened by the man with the ironed tie, and I step fearlessly inside, leaving the innocence of my past world behind. ?? ?? ?? ?? Zoe King ...read more.

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