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Original writing - Regular Joe.

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The lamp flickered for a second, but long enough to distract Joe from his work. The office was silent at this time of night; everyone else had long gone home to their family, but he wanted to finish these last reports. The scratching sound of his pen over the paper, seemed to be magnified and echoed through his mind. A slight breeze hit his skin. Instantly, he gave a small shiver and turned around. The window had been left open and as he shut it, he looked out at the city lights. How small they all seemed up here, like hundreds of tiny candles, each flame slowly burning away to nothing. On these quiet nights he seemed to dwell on his own existence, for there was no distraction to occupy his mind with other thoughts. He would often think back to his school years, when so many opportunities lay before him. He had always thought of himself as a fireman, or a footballer, and couldn't help but wondering what that small boy would have thought of him now. He was almost 40, and his dark, black hair was starting to thin and turn more of a dusty grey. His eyes, which had once sparkled with hope, now seemed tired, and slightly glazed over. He turned back to his desk, his face hitting the lamplight for a moment, and showing shadows under his wrinkled eyes. The thought of going back to his empty flat seemed somehow less appealing than this deserted office. He had almost finished the reports and knew that he would have to leave eventually. He sat down on his worn chair, lifted his pen back up and continued. The penetrating sound of his alarm woke Joe up immediately. His hand, almost automatically, hammered down onto it and the sound stopped. He lay back down on the pale-blue patterned bed; he had no intention of getting up, for today was Saturday and he liked it to pass as quickly as possible. ...read more.


The sight of this only made him feel more powerful; he had the ability to make her bleed. He kicked her again and again, until the desperate cries stopped. His foot halted in mid air, then slowly lowered as he kicked her head over to see his artwork. It was a mess, hardly recognisable from all the blood. It was over, and the power he possessed was somehow drained from him, leaving Joe only with the guilt of what he had done. He crouched down over her and moved his worn hands to her neck; there was no pulse. His hands started to shake as they were coated with her blood, and as he looked down at the inert body he started to cry. His rationale side seemed to kick in, and he knew that he would have to hide the body. This girl was supposed to appear in court soon and would be missed. If he went to the police he would get life, there was no way this was an accident, and by the time he would get out he would be about 60, with no home and no job to support him. He washed the blood from his hands. He knew that they would get dirty again soon, but it made him feel better doing this. If he buried the body, then someone would find it, and he couldn't risk that. He remembered reading somewhere that pigs were the only animals that would eat the bones. He wasn't sure if this was true, but it seemed to make sense in all the confusion. Of course a pig couldn't eat a whole body and so, to his disgust, he would have to chop her up. He didn't think that here was the best place, too much that a scientist could find. He didn't have a car, he had never needed one as he lived about 20 minutes from the office and stayed in at the weekends. ...read more.


He seemed so patronising, as though he knew that it was better, but somehow wanted Joe to feel slightly more important by pretending otherwise. "It's all right," replied Joe, he was not up for an argument about this. He simply wanted to buy a paper from the shops. "It was nice seeing you again." Joe felt betrayed by what he had just said. He was not pleased to see him, but yet could not bring himself to utter any words of hatred at this man. "I really do have to get on now, but I'm sure we will bump into each other again." He walked away, not even waiting for a response from the man. He could hear a 'goodbye' from behind, but decided to ignore it. He took his rolled up newspaper back to his flat without even reading it; he had lost his desire to know everything about everyone's lives. The paper flapped open as he dropped it onto the table. There was an article on the front page that Joe briefly gazed at before he dismissed it. It was about the recent rise of missing people in the area. It mentioned how Claire Thomas, a newly qualified vet had gone missing four months previously and, since then, nine other people had strangely disappeared. They were all different: Vet, schoolgirl, retired man, a youth, who they expected had just run away, a homeless man who was frequently seen in the town, a housewife .... There was another article in the paper, this one was not as exciting as the first, but just as strange. Apparently a Local farmer, who went by the name of Jeff Storm, had said that his pigs seemed to be living on nothing. On several occasions in the last few months he had arrived to give them their breakfast but their trough had been knocked over, with the food trapped underneath, yet the pigs did not seem any hungrier than usual. He could not explain what these pigs were eating, as there were never any remains. By Matt Brown ...read more.

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