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Story Case

Essay by   •  June 13, 2013  •  Essay  •  1,642 Words (7 Pages)  •  1,029 Views

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Three days passed before they found the body. The mutilated remains lay dismembered on the bitter, sodden mud of the forest floor, and the weather had already done a great deal of damage in eroding the features of the victim. I stood behind the multitude of trees and watched silently as the hordes of Policemen set about their business with the forensics teams. Over to one side I noticed a woman, grieving profusely onto the shoulder of a community support officer. Cascades of brown locks fell down her back, and she wild emerald green eyes. She would have looked about twenty if it wasn't for the wrinkles around her eyes and lips. I recognised her instantly. She was my mother. But why was she here? Her only friends were those from the bingo halls, and none of them were young enough to be the victim of this heinous crime.

I cried out to her, wanting to be with her, to comfort her. But she couldn't hear me. I screamed and screamed, my lungs aching with the rapid intakes of forced breath. Each time I screamed louder. Each time she failed to hear me. I tried running to her, but some undistinguished force seemed to keep my legs bound together. I was stuck in the shadows while my own mother's world was thrown into turmoil, and there was nothing I could do. My gaze then fell on the body, and for the first time I managed to get a decent look at the victim. And then I saw it. I knew why my mother was so distraught. The girl's bright blue eyes stared blankly into my own, and her soft orange hair clung to her bloodied face. Instinctively, I ran my hand through my own hair and shivered. She was me. I was dead. But how?

*

All I remember was running. Running faster than I've ever run before. The trees and houses flew past in my peripheral vision at what seemed like a hundred miles per hour. You know what it's like. In the horror movies, even the fastest runners seem to stumble over their own feet when there's a killer after them. That night I found out its pretty much the same in real life too. I must have fallen at least twice, but somehow I was still quite a way ahead of the murderous figure chasing after me. Maybe he was toying with me? Making me think I was getting away. Making me relax before he pounced. I made a sharp right into the woodland, ducking and diving through the overhanging branches of the twisted trees. They looked so evil at night. Like one of them could grab you in its vice-like braches and crush your bones to dust. I stopped for a quick breath behind one of the larger trees, sucking in air as quickly as my lungs would allow. When I made a move to run again, I ran straight into him. Dazed and confused, I looked up into the black shadow where his face should be, the dark hood of his cloak masking his features. He gave a deep, low chuckle and pulled something out of his pocket that glinted in the soft moonlight. My eyes widened as I saw it, and I tried to scream, but it was as if my vocal chords had been ripped from my throat. In one quick move, he drove the blade deep into my chest. Everything went black, and I could feel myself drifting slowly towards a glimmer of white light that seemed to be an infinite distance away. Gradually, the whiteness filled my sight, and I awoke with a jolt on the forest floor.

*

I stared down at the body which mirrored mine, and wondered what had happened. I remembered the blackness, and then the whiteness, but I certainly didn't remember dying. Or maybe that's what dying was? I remembered the hooded figure stabbing me, but then I didn't remember him carving me to pieces. Or maybe he did that when I was already dead. My memory was so hazy from that night, I barely remembered anything. But one thing was for sure. I was dead. Finally finding the power in my legs, I knelt down beside my body and turned my nose up in disgust. My head was by my arms, my hands were by my legs and my feet were by my chest. My hair was soaked in thick crimson blood, as were most of my body parts as well as the grass in which I lay. You never think it's going to happen to you, do you? You here about people being murdered, but no-one ever thinks it's going to happen to them. Well, apparently it does. Or at least it did to me.

I slowly rose to my feet, deciding I wouldn't hang around my own mutilated body forever. And that's when I saw him. The hooded figure that had done this to me, just stood there in broad daylight for everyone to see. He took hold of his hood with his long fingered hands and lowered it, letting me see his face for

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