Creative Writing 2.
Creative Writing 2.
She lay there in a pathetic huddle of glass and blood, whimpering softly as the overwhelming stench of betrayal seeped out of the bundle of bones which had become her body. She certainty knew how to draw a crowd in. He watched them watching her; the do-gooders, the neighbourhood watch, the office workers; even the man from the corner shop snaking around her fragile, vulnerable body. Each of them carried a concerned look, muttering words of sympathy, occasionally letting their own fears escape from their lips. She eyed them warily, the dark shadow of a bruise already forming on her left cheek bone. Glass, caught in her ringlets like pretty slides, glimmering in the sunshine. The mob slowly snaked around her, extending a hand as if she was wild prey, likely to strike at any time. They were like vultchers, all desperate to get a glimpse, of her, ready to form explanations and theories.
Gossip forming in their heads, ready to be regurgitated to the hungry audience that weren’t quite lucky enough to witness first-hand the attempted…No.
He heard snipped of their conversations, a question regarding whom to ring. An ambulance?
Surely needed! Could they not see the scarlet blood dripping, dripping, dripping. Cascading down her deathly white completion. ‘Deathly white’, he smirked to himself with the irony of it all. Someone had placed a woven blanket over her shoulders, hiding the evidence of destruction which marked her imperfect body. He shivered involuntary, wondering if he would get special service, a blanket placed round his masculine shoulders, kind words aimed at calming her out of control heartbeat. And her, hidden partly by the crowd, protesting she didn’t need medical treatment, her voice occasionally cracking and trembling, she has it all. Had, he corrects himself had.
The siren startles him, the crows reluctantly part, the old ladies huddled in their dressing gown
attempt
She lay there in a pathetic huddle of glass and blood, whimpering softly as the overwhelming stench of betrayal seeped out of the bundle of bones which had become her body. She certainty knew how to draw a crowd in. He watched them watching her; the do-gooders, the neighbourhood watch, the office workers; even the man from the corner shop snaking around her fragile, vulnerable body. Each of them carried a concerned look, muttering words of sympathy, occasionally letting their own fears escape from their lips. She eyed them warily, the dark shadow of a bruise already forming on her left cheek bone. Glass, caught in her ringlets like pretty slides, glimmering in the sunshine. The mob slowly snaked around her, extending a hand as if she was wild prey, likely to strike at any time. They were like vultchers, all desperate to get a glimpse, of her, ready to form explanations and theories.
Gossip forming in their heads, ready to be regurgitated to the hungry audience that weren’t quite lucky enough to witness first-hand the attempted…No.
He heard snipped of their conversations, a question regarding whom to ring. An ambulance?
Surely needed! Could they not see the scarlet blood dripping, dripping, dripping. Cascading down her deathly white completion. ‘Deathly white’, he smirked to himself with the irony of it all. Someone had placed a woven blanket over her shoulders, hiding the evidence of destruction which marked her imperfect body. He shivered involuntary, wondering if he would get special service, a blanket placed round his masculine shoulders, kind words aimed at calming her out of control heartbeat. And her, hidden partly by the crowd, protesting she didn’t need medical treatment, her voice occasionally cracking and trembling, she has it all. Had, he corrects himself had.
The siren startles him, the crows reluctantly part, the old ladies huddled in their dressing gown
attempt