Monday 2 May 2011

SPINE TINGLER!!!!!

Hey look! Two in a row! I'm on a roll this week! I wanted to share the "Spine Tingler" I wrote as an English short story. I thought I wasn't good at writing mysteries and was dreading it for weeks! But as soon as I got writing I couldn't stop! I hope your spine tingles!!!!! Bwuahahahaha!!!!!!

The Forest
By Grace Brulotte

It was a dark forest. It had a feeling hanging over it, a feeling that could not be explained. There were dark trees all around. The moon cast strange shadows on the ground. The air was thick, so thick it was almost un-breathable. The tree’s seemed to be alive. The wind clutched at the branches, sometimes ripping them off. No one knows what mysteries this forest held, nor was anyone willing to find out. No one was willing to find out, until now.

I stood at the gate that held that forest, wondering. Why weren’t people keen on talking about it? What happened there that was so infamous? Could there have been a murder? These were questions I asked myself many, many times. No one had the answers I was looking for.

I was in training to be a reporter for our daily newspaper. Naturally I had the urge to “poke my nose into other peoples business” but with little result. Whenever I asked about the forest I received replies like,
“Aren’t you a little young to be a reporter Miss Taylor”? Or,
“Why do you want to know about that? You’re a young lady! Young ladies should not be thinking or investigating about things like murder”! But if I didn’t find out what happened who would? Nobody, that’s who. I decided that I’d find out even if I had to interview everyone in town! What if there WAS a murder and the murderer is still out there somewhere! No, my mind was made up! So with notebook and pencil in hand I set out to find the truth. I was determined.

I started my investigation at the police office to see what I could dig up. But they wouldn’t tell me anything and said I should stick to knitting! I didn’t have much luck with the other places I stopped at either. The last place I stopped at was a little grocery store on the other side of town. I knew the owner there and thought that there was no harm in trying. The storeowners name was Burt, he was an old friend of my grandfathers. After making small talk for a while I decided to get right to the point.
“Burt, I came here to talk to you about the old forest on First Avenue. Do you know anything about it”?
“No! If it was up to me I’d burn the wretched place”! And with that he stormed away. His reaction made me wonder. I quickly ran back to the newspaper office and took out some papers from before I was born. But with no luck there I went home and pleaded with my father to tell me what happened.
“I’m sorry dear I can’t tell you”.
“Father I have been hearing that enough lately! I think I’m on too something! You can’t hide it from me any longer! You should have seen Burt’s reaction! Just tell me”! My father let out a great sigh and then told me to go up stairs and look in my grandmother’s bible. I was so excited I could hardly contain it as I ran up the stairs to grandma’s old room. I quickly rummaged through her things and finally found her bible. As I was pulling it out a newspaper clipping fell out. I picked it up and unfolded it. It read,

PAUL TAYLOR WAS FOUND HANGING, DEAD, IN THE FOREST ON FIRST AVENUE.

At 12:00 PM Paul Taylor was found hanging from a tree in the forest near First Avenue. Burt Smith has been found guilty and will be imprisoned for 10 years. The only explanation Smith gave for the murder was, “Revenge is sweet”. Paul was twenty-five years old.

1 comment:

  1. Hi Grace,
    Whoa. Quite the story...a little creepy for a young lady, don't you think? But then again, I think Mary Shelley was all of 18 years old when she wrote Frankenstein, one of the greatest thrillers ever written. Creepy, but in a cool sort of way.

    You could add a knitting twist...he was found hanging, FROM A KNITTED SCARF... ooooh, scary. Then you, detective, track down the knitter for clues as to the murderer...

    Happy imaginative writing!
    Sylvia

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