A Suburbian Murder

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RAMIZ AHMED 10G

The pearl white pigeon glided into the open window bringing with it the stenches of central London traffic. It cocked its head to one side while perched on the windowsill, as if in limbo. The blonde, wavy haired boy lay, sprawled out on his bed. His eyelids twitched as his dark eyes attempted to adjust to the ferocious rays of sunlight flooding the room. No sooner did he lift his heads. Then the black monster blared excruciatingly from across the room forcing him to summon the will power to trudge along and slap the alarm on the head, silencing it for a further twenty four hours. What day was it? He didn’t care. Each day was the same and he couldn’t tell the difference. He felt something.  

He walked outside into the cool breezing, looking upwards towards the day with a large smirk in his face. He was quite young, about in his late twenties, tall and relatively thin. He had a certain style of clothing, wearing a white polo shirt, with jeans of a faded blue colour. He had no facial hair and his hair was flipped upwards, his green sparkling eyes reflected from the stunning sun like a diamond.  

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He started to shiver. He stopped. He stood guard, glancing very sharply at them. Thunder screamed! And the burning intense weather died away. The shell spinning around had ripped his life. He hid panicking, wondering who it was? Why? Will someone help? Did he see me? Am I going to die? Out of the blue, tires screeched and the speeding car drove away into the gloomy night its number plate half out of its position, streaks of mud on the cars bright headlights and fresh mud falling off the bumper. He unleashed his face from the dark and ran ...

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