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Original Story Writing

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Original Writing Coursework By Matt Jones The Russian girl retracted her head from the camera lens, her hair tucked neatly under her baseball cap. She slouched back into her fold away chair, and commenced, frantically tapping at the keyboard buttons of her laptop. Then continued to promptly plug in the video cable that was connected to the camera she had been gazing out of before; almost simultaneously, video links popped up on her laptop screen, the same that were seen through the camera. The camera was pointed at a man on an obscenely expensive yacht in the marina below; he was staring into the rippling current of the bay, the water reflecting the unrest he felt inside. He constantly ran his hand through his hair, it was shining, was the grease caused by the lack of sleep he had had over the past couple of days or the sweat from his anxious palms? He grabbed the bottle of scotch he had perched on the side of the boat, poured it into a weighted crystal tumbler and knocked it back; he felt a sudden surge of heat, perhaps from the scotch hitting the back of his throat or maybe the strong blistering wind making its way over the harbour. Whatever it was caused him to yet again run his fingers through his hair. ...read more.


The man walked around the apartment nervously, surveying the marina below, so as to insure he had not been seen by any passers by. Using the phone in his left hand, he made one call; through the camera he could see the man on the yacht answering, he uttered two words in a tone which sounded like the man wanted some recognition, "It's done" he said, the man on the yacht replied with a lack of effort to continue the conversation; which disappointed the man on the other end of the line, he continued in a nervous tone to mutter the word, "Good", that was all he said, he then grabbed his briefcase and immediately left his yacht. Calmly, but quickly the man in the apartment began deleting all the files on the Russian girl's laptop, including all of the surveillance photos. He grabbed everything that she had been using: her laptop, her iPod and the tripod with the attached camera; leaving only the cables and the girls solemn corpse, he carelessly flung it all into a holdall and slung it over his shoulder, and upon his departure slipped the shoes he had left outside back on his feet, left the apartment and climbed back down the stairs, avoiding the camera again upon his exit. ...read more.


Ignoring the sympathy seeking, the team continued. When Sam had finally stopped moaning about the 'horrendous taste' of the leaves stuck in the back of his throat, he noticed that the photos were taken near Rob's old apartment in Venice. "Just before I got shot", Rob said with a reflective look in his face, he sounded concerned, worried. The crime scene photos were next on his list; he brought them up on the screen. "She clearly brought the furniture in herself", Hannah interpreted, she continued to propose; "Maybe the apartment was vacant?" Rob paused for a moment, looking puzzled and perplexed; suddenly a calm but urgent outburst erupted from his mouth. "Eric, enlarge the bottom right photo" he paused for what seemed like an eternity, he stopped suddenly, gazed into the eyes of the photo of a lifeless body on the screen, he stuttered. "That's the Russian girl". "Who's the Russian girl?" Hannah replied. The whole room stared at Rob waiting eagerly for an answer, Rob collapsed back into his chair, the flashback of the three shots crossing his body, the pain he felt, the moment replaying over and over again. He stood up, barely opened his mouth and muttered with a blank expression. "She was the last person I saw before I got shot" ...read more.

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