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Light raindrops fell effortlessly down the cold, dead window - misted over from my warm but sour breath.

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Introduction

James Pearson 11h Original Writing (Write the attack on the Finch children by Bob Ewell from the perspective of Boo Radley) Light raindrops fell effortlessly down the cold, dead window - misted over from my warm but sour breath. Deep beyond the horizon I could just distinguish two figures making their way down the secluded narrow path, cocooned from the rain yet segregated from safety, disappearing as I exhaled another sulphurous cloud of gas. I watched them lovingly, blissfully unaware of the demon that was about to enter their little worlds. A third shape caught my eye as the silver moonlight teased out a silhouette, like a spark lighting from the tip of a volatile match-stick. I used the back of my emasculated hand to free the window of my condensed agony to let my eyes adjust to the outside light. I knew it! That dejected hen Bob Ewell was stalking the Finch children, clumsily yet sneakily pursuing them like a cat wearing bells, hungry for its prey. My will could no longer control my instinct as I let my feelings take over my body. ...read more.

Middle

I saw his arm break; you could smell the ripped flesh as it released the odour of severed bone from his delicate outer shell. The girl got up and ran blindly straight into the clutches of the beast, for a second she seemed to have been absorbed by it's gut, but she was unable to break free. The goblin brought her up to its chest and used its rugged arms to crush her like a nut in a cracker. She wheezed as it's grip tightened, curling it's head towards the head of its prey like a boa constrictor releasing the last breath of life from it's victim. It was time to break loose from my ghostly presence. I launched myself towards him like a cat leaping between the rooftops - reaching out with my talons, ready to finish him off. I hooked myself to his back and dragged him to the ground along with the girl, still trying to break free from his grasp. She eventually wriggled her way to safety, leaving me to face the carnivorous barbarian by myself. I struggled with him on the ground in what felt like slow motion. ...read more.

Conclusion

I took a moment to pause as I re-gathered my thoughts. My senses were completely inverted. All I could see was the vivid rouge of the blood seeping slowly and majestically from where I had wounded my prey. All I could smell was the smell of fear, All I could hear was my own breathing as my body recovered. The boy was lying in a small limp heap, just metres away from me - arm sticking out behind his back. I released the flaccid corpse from my tight grip and staggered over to him. I lifted the boy from the ground and supported him on my shoulders, still weak from fighting. I feared he was dead but I could feel the soft warm breathing coming from within him on the hairs on the back of my neck. Lights were beginning to turn on in houses like fireflies dancing in the dark. Silhouettes were beginning to appear from porches, their outlines blurred by the light drizzle that was still mocking the earth. I staggered towards the Finch house, barely able to keep myself upright. As I got closer I could just make out the face of Atticus Finch beneath the soft glow of the streetlights. We neared home and I could feel the tepid breeze of safety through my hair. ...read more.

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