The Killer.

Shrivelled and ghastly, the victim lay on the muddy ground her beady eyes empty with not even a shred of life or emotion left in them, her face white like a ghost’s and hair strewn all about her head in matted knots. The police inspected her body cautiously; as if when they touched her they were afraid of her falling apart like shattered glass in their hands. She looked about 10 years old, too young for her life to end so slowly and painfully, she was fragile and limp with numerous scars over her body that looked like stab wounds. A tear rolled down my face as I thought of the pain she went through and her family and her age. The killer is a sick person to murder such an innocent and vulnerable child to get a thrill out of it and not to even consider the consequences that fate has in store for them. We may not know who it is at this moment but sooner or later we will find them and when I get my hands on them, they won’t know what’s hit them. I began to tremble with rage as I started to believe that they are out there killing sacrificing more innocent lives for the psychotic thrill that they get for doing it.

“Tell us, Miss, tell us what the body looked like.” “What did she die of?” “Miss, if I may have your attention for a moment, who is the killer?” I was surrounded by reporters when I had emerged from the forest all wanting to know what I had seen and who the killer is. The reporters are trying to get money off a story that a young girl has just died and it made me angry so I yanked the microphone off the nearest reporter and spoke into it in an angry tone, “You are the people that make me sick, you want the story of a little girls death to sell to newspapers and TV with no regard to her family and I will tell you now that when we get that killer he won’t know what’s hit him. Now get out of my way.” I pushed them all aside and walked to my van still aware that the cameras were following me. Later that night, I saw myself on the news telling the reporters about what we are going to do to the killer when we find him and the deep fire of rage started in my stomach again and I felt as if I should kill him.

Another child of about 7 or 8 has been discovered today with the same stab marks as the other girl and her features were nearly exactly the same but her face looked as if it had been sewn up to match the features of the first victim, I was both disgusted and horrified at the same time. 

Going to write some more soon but this is all i have got up to until now. Please tell me if it's good or not :)