Pay the price

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Keiran Virk: English Coursework

Pay the price

 A thick layer of drizzle tinted across the streets, and a glimmer of carroty street lamps, gave a shimmering shield across the roads. The light rustle of leafs concealed with a night lamp was the only movement in sight.

Because it was dark, the whole street lay motionless like a picture, at the end of the narrow street you could just about spot, a mucky, menacing uncanny alleyway.

It was fairly wider than your average alleyway, and also much different, it looked almost like another street, but with a bendy curve. Immediately as you walk past it you can smell something strange, which oozes with an unpleasant and mysterious type of smell. There is no light leading into the alleyway, the night lamps appear to stop almost nine yards before it. Anyone who lives in the area wouldn’t dare go near the alleyway, anybody around the area knows to keep away.

Gates on houses are either partly attached to the wall or not there at all, most doors are vandalised with racist remarks. “White fuckers” and “fucking transvestites out” seem to be the jest of their ‘political’ messages. Every roof has random slates missing; there is even one with a visible whole.

There’s not one person in sight, no house lights on, no footsteps to be heard, there’s not even any sign of wild life.  No birds or flies hovering around lights. Nothing.

If one was to stop, turn their heads and listen, a mellow echo is just about possible to hear. As you listen carefully, it sounds like light footsteps. Within seconds the footsteps become louder, heavier and closer. A figure approaches; it approaches at a fairly fast speed. It’s obviously a man the walk gives him away. His arms are hunched out, repetitively moving back and forth, with a face looking straight ahead. He is wearing a smooth leather jacket, which is buttoned up, and black straight trousers, with polished black shoes. With hair brushed back so neat, there isn’t one strand out of place. The expression on his face seems intense and cold.

Suddenly the man abruptly starts walking towards the alleyway, as he reaches the beginning of it, he stops. Then looks around cautiously but gently. His head scans from left to right and back again. His left hand then drops into his left pocket, he leisurely reaches in, then takes one final look around, and sneakily unveils a large handgun. He then couches and stealthy makes his way forward, occasionally pausing to lift his head. Suddenly he becomes rigid, his back snaps straight. He becomes overtly alert, looking slightly anxious...    

 …’That’s good I like that, what’s ya name darling.’

The customer asked with a slight tingle of satisfaction, his eyes opened wide, raising his eyebrows at the same time. The girl didn’t reply she looked as if she was in her own world. She lay there on the floor staring up at the ceiling. ‘Speak to me god dammit’. The customer frowned and now was beginning to show signs of impatience by violently rubbing his hands through his scruffy and greasy short hair. The customer wanted attention-after all that’s what he’s paid for. The customer suddenly moved his head towards her body, the girl looked at him in desolation.    

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It was then she realised, the day had arrived, the day she had been dreading for the past few months. Dealing with the first demanding customer, -alone.

As he looks down the alleyway, he becomes more nervous. He takes small steps back, and looks around, for a hiding place. He then glances at some grubby rubbish bins; he runs towards them and lies down. He feels injudicious and pathetic as he clutches his gun tightly in his left hand; he then closes his eyes in desperation.

Suddenly he hears a faint noise, as he brings his ...

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