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Original writing - Some things don't sink.

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John, the local vicar, was a small and plump man with shambolic hair. His posture said nothing for him. Being the vicar was a family tradition, although he liked been the vicar he longed to move from the small village of Cawood, and go do something exciting with his life. It was late Friday night, and John was asleep, lost in the world of his visionary thoughts, when suddenly he heard this almighty bang! He immediately awoke and rushed to get his dressing gown on. He raced down the stairs as fast as he could, jolted down the hallway until he reached the large oak door. By the time he got there the banging was becoming louder and more frequent. John peered through the spy hole and saw a large man standing in front of the door. The door grinded the floor as John opened it. Then in came this unstable man. He was tall and his long narrow face appeared to be covered with mud. His clothes were ripped, and his knees were gushing with blood. This face looked familiar. He was right, it was Craig. "Craig, what's happened? "Asked John. "It's down by the lake, there's a corpse! I don't know anything about it, I just spotted it now and thought to come and tell you" this took a while for Craig to say as he was gasping for air. ...read more.


The detective thought he had, had a breakthrough when two villages up a man had confessed to murdering a woman! Paul drove all the way up to the village to find out that, further investigations proved that he was innocent of the killing of Susan. Winter arrived and thick layers of glistening snow swept the streets. It was so peaceful. The slowly drifting snowflakes making the air look white gave the village a snow dome effect. But the snow was against one person. The snowflakes had stopped, but one person was unaware that this was going to happen, so one morning when the police returned back to the spot where the body was found they noticed faint footmarks pressed into the snow. They took a mould of these footsteps and the base on the shoe turned out to be those of one particular pair of boots. Only two people in the village owned a pain of these boots, John, the vicar and a woman called Jane. Jane was a quiet woman who lived by her self on the out skirts of the town. No body knew much about her as she kept her self to her self. No one in the right mind would of suspected her of being able to kill some one, but you know what they say, it's always the quiet ones. ...read more.


On the night of our argument she didn't die she was just unconscious. She awoke the next day further down stream. She had been living under another persons identity until the time was right to come back. Then without any warning she came at me with a knife, I was livid, I ran towards her but fell. She came towards me with the knife held tightly in her hand. She pinned me down. I started to panic and I felt around for something, I grabbed a rock, I had no choice but to hit her with it. I smacked her over the head several times with it. She took her last breath and fell to the ground. I ran home in a state of panic and grabbed a bin liner and hurried back and buried her. A few days later I dug her up and placed her in the woods. Then I deliberately cut my self and tore my clothes and ran to the vicar and told him I had found her. When they found the speck of blood I knew I had to do something, so I ingeniously came forward to help the police. This way I would avoid any questioning and did not have to give a blood sample. I would just like to say I'm sorry for any pain I have caused. I'm sorry for letting an innocent person go down. I'm sorry for the pain I have caused to the Hoffman's, but most of all I am sorry for murdering Susan. Please forgive me! ...read more.

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