Creative Writing Coursework

Authors Avatar

Creative Writing Coursework

It was a cold, crisp winter’s night in New York, and I was slumped unconscious on a toilet in Doc’s Diner; my arms slashed, and blood dripping steadily from a small, rusty knife in my hand. A bald old man meandered unsteadily into the toilet room, and began to wash his hands in the only working sink. Suddenly, three frosty blasts of air pulsed harshly through the open window, and I stirred; my knife hand trembling, I wobbled my way out of the cubicle, unnoticed to the preoccupied man, and drew up my arm.  Seconds later, the man lay on the floor, my hand thrusting the blade into his chest time after time after time.

What could only be seconds later, blood still spilling from the deceased man’s wounds; I opened my eyes and stared in sheer horror at my crime, stuttering ‘what have I done?’ I rushed to the sink and furiously tried to erase the blood from my arms and jumper. When done, I pulled down my sleeves, and zipped up my coats to hide any blood, and threw the knife out of the window into the night. I managed to compose myself, and assertively stepped through the door into the diner. I needed to get out before anyone else entered the loo, so I headed for the door. Sitting at the bar was the police sergeant, and I really started to worry, shaking in my boots. As I started to push the door handle, a cry from the waitress, and I knew I had been discovered. I tentatively turned, fearing the worst but gave a huge sigh of relief when the middle aged woman behind the bar said, ‘Are you gonna pay your bill or not mister?’ ‘Oh sorry, I forgot,’ I mumbled, and walked over to my table and sat a 5-dollar note down on the tray. Then, trying to look as innocent as possible, I stalked out into the snow; I found a lone taxi, and ten minutes later, I was back in my apartment. Without changing, I hurried into bed, pulled back the covers and tried to sleep.

Suddenly I was awake; it was 4:27 am on my alarm clock. ‘Caw, caw,’ resonated around the apartment, and I followed the cry onto the balcony, where, perched before me like a stone gargoyle, was a large black crow. It cried again, and I leapt back in surprise. Was I paranoid, or was this symbol of evil inextricably linked to my dreadful deeds? I tried to shoo the bird away with my hand, but it would not leave, so I left it, walked into my small kitchen area, and opened my wallet. I stared at the name on the credit cards. Victor Vincent, I didn’t feel like that person any more; I didn’t know whom I was. Gazing around my apartment, I realised how bad life was without Nikki, I wished she were back here with me, to protect me from these unknown forces. I had really gone all the way when I had cut myself last night, but I don’t remember all of it, just the knife and visions of the old man in my sleep. I needed to get this place cleaned up, and quick, the police would surely be on my trail by now. I picked up covered in dried, crusty blood, mopped the floor until it was spotless, and had a quick shower to refresh me; this would probably be the most difficult day of my life, if I got through it. It was only moment’s later that I knew this would be the case. As I was brushing my teeth, the man flashed into view in the mirror, eyes as cold as stone, and a glare of pure hatred. But then, as quickly as he was there, he was gone, and I walked into the living area, when a loud knock smashed against the door.

Join now!

‘This is the NYPD, open up!’ I was slowly venturing towards the door, when I spotted the covers pulled back on my bed. “One minute officer,” I shouted nervously, and I ran to the bed and pulled back the covers, phew! I grabbed my keys and opened the door. On the other side was a middle-aged man of medium build, with a pale complexion, and a large, brown handlebar moustache. From his expression, I could see he meant business, and he wanted to get this over and done with; he showed no signs of being affected by the cold, ...

This is a preview of the whole essay