I know it's extremely short, but as they say short and sweet. Please be brutal but kind, please and thank you.
As I sit here at my desk, my fingers flying across the keyboard. My mind starts to wander at what I'm creating, or maybe recreating. Yes as I sit here finishing up the last chapter, I realize, I now know who the murderer was! Is!
Yes, I knew everything, from how she did it it, to why she did it. I wondered why she had kept me alive for so long, but the it hit me, I was a puppet in her blood-stained hands.
Yes! The old witch had told me everything. And now I was saving my work- her story in my laptop binding it up under lock and key. As I shut off my last great work, a thought struck me. How many before me had died getting this story?
Well the witch wasn't going to get my story.
I almost laughed at the thought, but I knew she'd be coming, so I held my tongue.
I didn't have to wait long to hear her slow but sure footsteps coming my way. She opened my bedroom door, it screamed with agony. I willed myself not to jump because I knew she'd be coming for me.
I stood up from my chair, unafraid that she would just end it right here where I stood, she wouldn't just shoot me in the back now, no she wanted to see the look in my eyes first. It wasn't her way to shoot someone from behind, she told me once it wasn't the Klingon's way either, whatever the hell that meant.
I stood up and turned to face her, her white hair was gleaming and her blue eyes cold.
“Danielle.” she smiled, pointing a 45. Caliber at my chest.
“Marie.” my voice was surprisingly firm, even though I knew I was going to die.
Maybe I could stall long enough for the calvary to show up. I mean come on I still had to go and win an Oscar, for Christ's sake.
I laughed out loud this time, thinking to myself. “Old bitch isn't going to get me.”
