Short Story On Booths

The boy didn’t tell the police. For several days he didn’t tell anyone at all. He looked at the newspapers twice a day for news of killing, but he didn’t find anything. More than the farmer's gun, he had been frightened by the strength of the farmer's resolve. It had been like a chunk of stone and compared to it the boy had felt as soft as a piece of white bread. The boy never knew what happened. Perhaps nothing had happened.

It is a cold and stormy night, Walter Schiedel was in a hurry as though he was running late. He looks at his phone, no new messages, he is relieved. Hopefully they are not there yet, he thinks as he picks up his pace. He tries to remember when was the last time he has seen Roger V. Gould and Randall Collins. It seemed like ages ago. He turns the corner and sees Randall first. They hug and walk in the bar together. He notices Roger grabbing a few beers from the bartender. Roger sees Walter and yells, “Hey Walter! We got a booth in the back near the darts”. Walter smiles, tonight is going to be a good night, he thinks. As they sit down, they begin to catch up, they talk about their works and attempt to engage in a conversation about violence when a fight breaks out by the bathroom. Two women are seen escorted out of the bar, yelling and throwing their shoes at each other in attempts to hit the other. There is a crowd rushing outside, hoping that these women fight

It was a cold night in New York city, all the lamps were dim, looking very sketchy as always. John Moore was a detective on a missing case for his brother Joshua. The incident occurred on September 19, it was now October 5. John doesn't usually look for a missing case this long, but it was his brother who went missing and he was restless to find his brother. Joshua Moore was reported missing on September 19, little did everyone know Joshua was still alive and well. He actually went missing for a reason, to keep his family safe from a murderer who John had tried to catch a while back. John went on a case for a robber and his partner who did a home invasion on a elderly couple. He soon tracked down the two and chased them till he

It was Friday night, everybody was asleep, and it was time. So John ran down the stairs quite like a mouse and very meticulously, and then slipped out the window to walk over to mitch’s house. When he got there, there was music blasting, lights flashing, and people all over the place. Before he went to join the fun, John took a deep breath and thought whatever happens… happens. While John was at the party he felt pressured to partake in many bad behaviors, along with his friends while the were drinking and everything. John thought to himself about what he should do, should I go home and face the consequences, or stay and possibly face even more trouble. So he decided to stay and just see what happens. For the duration of the party John stayed inside with some of the other kids and snacked on some of the apitizers

The hallway group observes the police as they beat up on William. While others saw the first-hand the brutality the cops exercised as they brought him out of the building dragging him into the rain through the puddles forcing the perpetrator violently into the back seat of the vehicle. The lights from the patrol cars attracted a crowd in front of the building. Most were wondering what was happening, but when they saw William, they knew. Upset with the treatment of the black man, they began to shout, “Police brutality! With the threat of being taken downtown, the crowd was silenced, that is except for some of the younger kids, they motioned with their fingers while shouting, “Police brutality! Pigs!

    After the narrator’s ‘clean up’ he heard a knock from three police officers who got a call about a scream from the house. They asked to search the house and asks some questions, the narrator felt fine and let the officers in. The narrator took the officers to each room and even sat down in the bedroom to sit and discuss about the scream. “I soon wished that they would go. My head hurt and there was a strange sound in my ears. I talked more, and faster. The sound became clearer. And still they sat and talked.” The narrator was being a little cocky about his clean up and thought he was in the clear, but was getting annoyed for how long the officers were staying for. Soon the narrator started to hear the soft ticking sound he once swore against. The narrator started to grow paranoid from this sound and soon began to snap. “Suddenly I knew

Donnie was strangely quiet during dinner. “Donnie? Are You ok?” Steve asked. There was a pause. “Donnie?” Steve said again.

John’s stubborn attitude wouldn’t confuse him to avoid the hanging trail. I consider to hold up on my journey and take John with me after he escapes his accusation of witchcraft. A few days pass, and the word come out that John will hang for his crimes against the church and state. I felt like my whole world was crashing down and now i've given my true love a fate of death. looking among the crowd you can locate none of john's friends and family, only myself and strangers are here to give any last remarks to the lives about to be lost. Thier names are called in no specific order. I Watch the convicted walk up the steps to the ropes and the familiar face of John, I couldn't watch as I closed my teary eyes and hear only the whistling

The room that John picks out for his wife is upstairs and secluded. There are bars on the windows and the wallpaper has patches that have been ripped off. Would you want to stay in a room like this after already suffering from depression and anxiety? She tells him that she expected a room “downstairs that opened on the piazza and had roses all over the window.” (217). However, she walks in to find a bed that is nailed to the floor. Imagine how scary that would be! John assures his wife and their family that she is fine. He thinks she will get better being in this room away from everyone and everything. Her “brother is also a physician and he says the same thing.” (216). She is placed into an uncomfortable environment and is made to be alone against her will. This is one of the reasons she loses her mind.

“Really?” Adair asks, “okay.” He sighs and makes his way to the back; picking up the bag of trash slumped against the wall and carrying it to the back door, grunting and groaning. He pushes the door open and steps into the dim alley backing the restaurant, shivering against the bitter November cold. He fumbles with the keys in his pocket until he finds the right one for the garbage. He hears a banging noise and spins around. There’s a man standing behind him, he stares at Adair with fearful eyes. His thin sweater pulled tightly around his frail body.

John’s story is told in a first-person view, which contributes to the insight of the mind of a sociopath. It’s one thing to see John’s decent into his own hell from a third-person view, you understand the feelings and emotions racing through his head well enough; it’s another thing entirely to live his decent, to see first-hand how much his obsession is killing him inside. For someone void of emotions, John pours his heart out within the pages of this book, and every moment of it is seen, heard, and felt. John gives a powerful statement about serial killers here, “People wanted the explanation to be as big and flashy as the killings themselves, but the truth was far more terrifying: true terror doesn't come from giant monsters but from small, innocent-looking people"

I couldn’t leave the only brother I ever had. Tears were streaming down my face. I had kept my composure all throughout this hellish event. But now, I couldn’t lose my brother. I was trying to rip the debris up to somehow form an exit for him. He grabbed my hand and gave me his badge and his lucky necklace. I screamed that I wasn’t leaving him. I was going to die with my brother. His exact words were, “Get out and take care of Shelly (his wife) and Kate(His daughter). Tell them Daddy loves them very much and will see them when they come to heaven. Rus, it has been a good run for me. I love you man. You were the best brother any man could have. Take care of my wife and daughter. Make sure she gets to college and marries a good man. Now go! You need to survive to take care of them and your kids!” Tears streaming down my face I told him he has a deal and took off running. I got to lobby of the building when the most horrific sound emerged from the ceiling. The building was coming down and I had seconds to exit if I was going to keep John’s promise. With his necklace and badge clutched in my fist, I sprinted to the door and as far as i could go.

“Is anyone there” said the woman looking to see if there was ,but all she saw was darkest. Then she turned around and saw a tall man about six-nine with a brown jacket and blue jeans, he seen to be poor. She runned as fast as a lion , but she had nowhere to run. Also he was to fast like he was a demon or something bad news. He had killed the lady and went on with his live, but he knew he was ready to kill once he got home. “That was just a warm up, next I will kill a man” he said waiting the see if they found the body and head of the lady he killed. He finally got a chance to kill Mark Jones, old friend he hated. It was like when he kill the lady. “Mark I see you” he said looking at Mark from above. “Who is there” Mark said looking around.

As our resident badass continues to watch in sort of dull bemusement, his friend is far less casual about the whole affair. Intent on a swift exit, his friend starts to walk away. Dinner Theatre Source Our hero continues to sit and watch the unfolding chaos, even sipping his drink like he is watching the mayhem on TV.

The street was eerily quiet as I crossed. So was Mike. Staring at me unwaveringly, he said nothing as I approached. The crow's feet framing his eyes, the ridges in his forehead, and the crinkles in his cheeks still stand out in my mind. How many nights had he lain on that bench, covering his face as the wind whipped against it? Now he hugged his body tightly. He was wearing an old pair of tan khakis, a shirt that I couldn't see clearly, and a light multi-colored jacket, its sleeves ending above his pale wrists, that was just slightly too small and clung to his body. As I gave him the money in my wallet, he took it--slowly--and stared at it for a second in disbelief. Although the street in front of the library is usually an amalgam of car horns, headlights, whining engines throughout the night, nothing--not