Eye of a Murderer

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fan Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Bree did something wrong that would haunt her for a lifetime, she now lives in guilt and pain, a dark hole agony. Is putting a end to her life an option, or does she have other options that leave her a future with just a little spark...?

Submitted: December 12, 2011

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Submitted: December 12, 2011



"Get your stupid hands off me, you stinking idiot!" Bree lost control and without thinking, pushed Dane as hard as she could into the spiky edged wall.

"OW!" Dane reached a hand to the bakc of his head and gasped when he saw it. It was covered in a sticky, red liquid: blood.

"Oh my God!" Bree felt the world spin as she watched Dane's face pull into agony and shock.

"I am so, so sorry, Dane..." Bree trailed off as she watched Dane's face turn white, she reached to cover her mouth from screaming, but tears instantly welled up in her panicked eyes. 

It was too late, Dane's blue eyes rolled back into their sockets, his body went limp and then with a loud thump, his head hit the hard concrete floor, his lifeless eyes never blinked again, they just stared at the sky, without any expression. More blood flowed from his head, covering the ground with a sickening red.

Bree couldn't breath, or walk, or look, or do anything. 

She, of all people, had killed Dane Jackson. 

With shock, she ran. Bree ran as fast as her shaking legs could carry her. She just hoped she would fall into a deep dark hole and stay there, forever and ever and ever. Tears sprawled from her eyelids but she kept running, it felt like she was running towards the end of a deep dark tunnel...and it hurt every step.

Bree coughed and turned to see her house, sitting there under the setting sun.

What now? 

Go home and pretend nothing happened? Or confront everything, confront the sad truth that would betray her family, despair her friends...

NO! The answer was roared in Bree's head. She could never, ever, utter the words that she had killed Dane. Nobody knew, nobody. Nobody knew she had killed him. When somebody found Dane's remains, Bree would never be suspected for his murder. 

The thought disgusted Bree, but it was all she could do now. 

Bree wiped her eyes and blinked twice.She forced a convincing smile and walked slowly towards home.

As she entered the living room, her mum's smiling face greeted her as normal, but this time, the smile gave Bree pain, as though swords were pricking her heart. She smiled back and simply said, "Got loads of homework, mum."

Her mum kindly nodded, and Bree nearly ran to her bedroom.

As she closed the door of her bedroom with a light BANG, she locked it and then, fell face first on the bed, bursting into the most painful tears she had ever cried in a lifetime.



The morning fog casted a grey outline of the soggy strrets. Bree sat on her bed, staring along a shelf of dead flowers, hanging low from their stems. The sky was an almost grey, you could see no cloud, just a plain vast spread of sad grey, overshadowing the town like a dark curtain, making everything look so devastingly sad.

Bree just came home from a funeral. The funeral of Dane Jackson's.

It was so hard, sitting there with her parents and looking at Dane's parents and her sister Minka cry and sob. Bree felt like she should just run, just get away from all this, just leave all this. But that simply revolted her even more.

Bree knew she couldn't live like this, in full guilt and sadness forever. She had to do something. Anything. 

She could tell the police she had did it. Or she could go to Dane's grave and say 'sorry' every day. Or she could...go. 

Bree hands turned into fists. She could end this, end her life instead of living like this, in a deep dark hell she feared so so much.

It was a option, death was a option.

Maybe even a good one.

Bree stared at the grey sky looming over the town church, where Dane had been carefully placed into a grave. She smiled as she thought of killing herself, she knew there was a bottle of pills in the attic cardboard that he mum had forgot to throw away. She could use that. It was painless, just like drifting to sleep.

She chuckled lightly and made her way into the attic, planning to get this done and over.






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