very rough draft..some creative writing. cant write romance so i thought i would write a murder story..yeah
I stare at the window…not thru it. The reflection of the body in the glass haunts me. What a pitiful creature. Tear stained cheeks and a black eye. What a waste. She was so beautiful. Chestnut lock, though short were soft and luxurious, now lay streamed out beneath her head, framing the loveliness that now stared blankly ahead. Green eyes, unblinking, still twinkled even in death. That porcelain complexion still looked healthy even after the blood had left her cheeks.
Sasha deserved it. I walk over slowly to her body, my fingers stroke her soft cheek. Her full red lips have turned pale. My fingers trace her collar bone, her neck marred with the marks from my hands. I chose this method on purpose, I wanted her to know she was dying, to suffer as she made me suffer. I continue to stare at the corpse in fornt of me. So beautiful, yet so disgusting. She was such a vile creature preying upon the desires of man to get her petty inconvieniences. She flaunted that curvy frame, knowing men would stare and give her anything to get her attention. She didn’t deserve such beauty..not when I had to work so hard for everything I had in life everything! No man ever looked at me with such intense heat, no man ever swept me off my feet nor did they heed my voice when I called out in my time of need. All because of her.
I started plotting Sasha’s death sometime ago. I remember that day well, she knocked on my door at about three in the morning. I groggily crawled out of bed to find a truly distraught sasha standing out in the rain. She had been crying, and the makeup that enhanced her pretty features was pouring down her face in streams on her cheeks. She covered her lips with her hands in a prayer like gesture, smiled and hugged me. I stiffened. How dare she?
“can I come in?” she asked, “I need somewhere to stay the night.” Of course she did. This wasn’t the first time. Sasha had a bad habit of getting involved with the wrong crowd in her ploys for attention. And once she dumped the poor chum he often went looking for a gun. I envied the bastard for having the guts to do what I longed for.
She climbed inside and crawled out of her stillettos, heading to bathroom awkwardly on her now flat feet. “you wont believe the night I have been through.” she said
“Try me.” I said coming up behind her in the bathroom as she tried uselessly to wipe off the thick eyeliner that had now stained her cheeks
“I don’t know what got into him…one minute we’re happy, having a few drinks…the next hes holding a knife to my throat.”
“no I left him a week ago..this is Jared” she said noncommittally as she continued to poke and prod at her face.
“…ok. You seem to be moving through men fairly fast. This isn’t the first time this has happened you know.”
She glared at me in the mirror and ignored me. Tears welled up in her eyes. “I don’t know why this happens to me, I mean you have never had these issues with men.”
I rolled my eyes. I never had these issues with men because I had to deal with her issues. I was often the one to call the police when men came looking for her here, I had been shot before, a bullet was stuck in my thigh to prove it, and a knife scar marred my belly.
“you just don’t understand what its like to be me. I go to parties to cut loose, relax have some fun and these people just come trying to start trouble. All they want is to sleep with me.
“maybe if you didn’t lead them on dear. I mean look at you!”
She turned towards me to give me a better look at her ensemble. Just as I feared. A short form fitting red dress with a low cut bodice to show off her ample cleavage, a corset to show off her figure, and the seven inch stillettos she had just taken off. The dress had practically nothing to it in the back, and the fabric of the skirt left nothing to the imagination of what was underneath it. Her hair looked as though she had been trysting with several men all night long and was pinned back on one side. Her makeup, though smeared over her face was heavy and still showed traces of its original application. Bright red lipstick on her perfect pout, heavy black eyeliner to accent her green eyes, and perfectly manicured eyebrow that had been perfected with eyebrow gel. Her nails were painted a coordinating red, and her body, though pale was not unhealthily colored. Any mans perfect wet dream.
No means no. she said affirmatively, just because I dance with a guy does not mean I want to sleep with him. I rolled my eyes. Her version of dancing with a man was grinding against him and bringing him to the brink of release before she would ditch him. Then as soon as a guy was giving her the attention she wanted she quickly moved her advances to a man who could care less about her. She always wanted what she couldn’t have.
“if you say so. Just know I care about you and I only want you to be safe, abd I don’t agree with the way you lead these drug stupored men on. They don’t think clearly and they only want revenge half the time. They don’t think about the jail sentence or electric chair.”
She walked up to me and embrace me tightly, her braless cleavage squished against me…it made me want to gag as she pulled back and her lip quivered. Im sorry she whispered, you are right.
She wandered out of the bathroom into my bedroom, going through my closet and taking a pair of pjs. As she secured her hair in a ponytail and sat on the couch I resented her more. So naturally gorgeous even in the mess she was in. traces of the makeup still resided under her eyes, making her look even more tired, but her well defined cheekbones wide spaced eyes, and flawless complexion drove me mad.