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As he stood over the mangled corpse of the dead bird, saw the small patch of blood beneath it, and became consumed in its cold lifeless stare, a strange emotion came over him.

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Introduction

Title As he stood over the mangled corpse of the dead bird, saw the small patch of blood beneath it, and became consumed in its cold lifeless stare, a strange emotion came over him. He had felt anger, he had felt remorse, he had even felt hate. This emotion, however, he couldn't describe. Earlier that morning he had watched his pet cat, Charlie, hunt down and cruelly kill the little thrush. He remembered enjoying watching Charlie thump the helpless birds head, until it could hardly walk, before savagely biting its neck, and squeezing. This emotion that he was feeling made him want revenge. The front room of their two-bedroom house was small. What little furniture there was, was closely packed together, and covered with cheap varnish. It was the middle of the day, but for some reason the lights were all on, leaving the room yellow, and only describable as 'shabby'. "Wayne!" His mothers voice was shrill with rage. Everything stopped for Wayne. He was filled with terror. What had he done wrong? What would his punishment be? Tears began to wander down his cheek. First, just one began its meandering path down his face. But that one quickly grew into a steady flow of tears, washing his energy away with them. As he took the long journey, down the stairs and into the front room, everything had stopped. There was no sound. The birds were not singing, the wind was not whistling, but his soul was screaming. ...read more.

Middle

Wayne was calm now; he harboured no guilt about the deed he had just committed. Killing, or at least wanting to kill, had become normal for Wayne now. He couldn't let people get him; he had to get them first. All of the shops were closed, as Wayne expected, but he couldn't help himself from sneaking a peek into the bakery window. To his disappointment, the curtains were drawn, so he could not see the tantalising cakes he loved so much. In the glass, he could however see his reflection. He never liked looking at himself, in photos, or in mirrors. The person he saw was not who he wanted to be. He slowly cast his eyes over the image of himself. His haircut was cheap, and his greasy black hair was almost at his shoulders. He had not shaved for a few days, and as such, he looked like a tramp on the street, dirty. His eyes frightened him. They seemed hollow, with no soul behind them. They were wide, and seemed to be crying for help. Wayne had worn the same clothes for the whole week; he didn't have much else. The green shirt, brown corduroy trousers, and black moccasins were badly worn. He was not tall, but he was incredibly strong, due to all of his weight training. His shoulders were hunched, his back awkwardly bent over, twisted. Shaped from his childhood. The left side of his mouth was paralysed, giving him a frightening smile. ...read more.

Conclusion

"Well," started Joan, removing one of the coconut cream cakes from the bag, "without this it only comes to �7.25. Is that ok?" "Couldn't you please let me off the last 35pence," he said. Surely she would allow him 35pence off. "I'm sorry too. But all of the other customers are paying for theirs, and you are no different to any of them. So either I remove an item from the bag, or you pay me �9.75. Its your choice." Those words cut through Wayne like a serrated knife. 'No different to any of the other customers' What was she saying? He had never felt so strongly about anyone before. Without saying anything, Wayne left the shop, his money, and his cakes still on the counter. 9 hours later, Joan was preparing to leave work. She took off her apron and hung it on the hook. She took an angel cake as a snack, and left. It was 15 minutes walk to her house from the bakery, but Joan didn't even think as she walked, the journey had become so routine. She took out her key, and was about to push it into the lock when she noticed that the door was already open. There were some odd scratch marks on the door frame, where it appeared the door had been forced open. Cautiously she stepped inside, and was greeted with silence. The eerie, unnerving sound of nothing. She took one step, then one more, until she turned to enter the lounge. She stumbled backwards Chris straker ...read more.

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