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Creative Writing: The Crash... as Jesse stumbled down the stairs, he could hear the weeping and he knew that something had gone wrong. He cried out, whats going on? Jesse this is officer Potter, and he would like to talk to you, wept his grandmother. Whats the problem officer? mumbled Jesse half asleep, rubbing his eyes.
Well, Jesse I dont know how to tell you this, but this morning on I- 43 your dad was in a very terrible accident. He was hit by a semi truck heading south on the interstate. And when we arrived upon the scene, your father was found dead. Stammered the nervous rookie cop.
Oh God, oh God, who did this? ... how did? . why? ... I have to get out of here. Cried Jesse with a face full of tears. Jesse come back here!
Sobbed his grandmother. Jesse then took off, and he told no one where he was going. So now there is a grandmother weeping, a nervous rookie cop, and an upset missing teenager; what is the family to do now. They just lost their dad, and son, and now his child has taken off. Talk about a nightmare of a morning. After Jesse took off his grandmother sat there on the couch, clutching the work shirt of her dead son crying, Oh Edward, Oh Edward.
The cries echoed through the empty house as the grandmother sat there in tears. How could this have happened? Thought Jesse to himself, he was just in Green Bay and now hes dead. Who did this? They will get theirs. The only thing that kept Jesse going was his hatred.
He had to devise a plan to get back at the person who did this. The only thing he could think of was to repay blood for blood. Jesse didnt know the exact details of the accident, but when he found out he erupted into a fit of rage. So the driver of the semi fell asleep behind the wheel, huh? I tell you what, he better not fall asleep tonight. There is one pissed of kid coming for him.
As Jesse sat at home devising a plan to pay back blood for blood, his grandmother is planning out the arrangements for the funeral. Jesse's plan sounds so simple and fool proof that even a child could pull this off. His idea was to wait until about 1 oclock in the morning and break into his house and deal with him in an inhumane manner. All through his life Jesse had a fascination with torture. So for this situation he would bring out the art of Chinese torture.
Chinese torture is when small blades are used and little cuts are made on the body, and the person bleeds to death in enormous pain. Time passes by and it is about the hour of 12 oclock, Jesse begins to make his way to the murders house, and thoughts of his dad go racing through his mind. On the way there he breaks down into a tremendous sob. He gets very short of breath and his face is soaking wet from the cascade of tears running down his face; all of a sudden, he sees the truck drivers house.
His sobbing stops instantly and a look of hatred flashes across his face, just like some one hit a switch. At this time he had no feelings, his heart was made of stone, he had to do what he set out to do, KILL! As he walked through the field near by, he could hear a dog barking in the distance near the mans house. Jesse, on a mission, ignored the warning signs of the dog and continued on. As he crawled through the window into the living room, he could hear the victim snoring in the bedroom. He entered the darkened room, gun in hand, and hit the switch.
Wake the hell up! Roared out Jesse in the blinding light. So now how does it feel to be helpless, and knowing that you are about to die. Who are you?
Whimpered the semi driver. You killed my dad you bastard! And a gun shot rang through the empty house. The shot grazed the left leg of the truck driver, leaving him in total shock. He was over come by the pain and he passed out on the bed, this allowed Jesse to tie him down to start the torture. As Jesse made the first slit in the truck drivers side, it sent his victim screaming in pain.
What the fuck, why are you doing this? Groaned the truck driver. So you can feel the pain that you gave me, and the pain you caused my dad before he died. So I am going to enjoy this cause right now its the only thing that makes me feel good, and boy am I having fun right now. Slit by slit, the truck driver wailed out in pain, until the moans became faint, ...
softer. softer until they stopped. All that is left is a bloody mess and no traces of who did it. A smile cracked Jesse's face as he left the room, and as he strolled out of the house you could hear him mumble, I hope you rot in Hell! 33 c
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Research essay sample on Nervous Rookie Cop Blood For Blood Jesse
