Creative Writing: The Crash Essay, Research Paper 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, “what’s going on?”
Creative Writing: The Crash Essay, Research Paper
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, “what’s going on?”
“Jesse this is officer Potter, and he would like to talk to you,” wept his
“What’s the problem officer?” mumbled Jesse half asleep, rubbing his eyes.
“Well, Jesse I don’t 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 he’s 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 didn’t 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 o’clock 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 o’clock, Jesse begins to make
his way to the murder’s 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 driver’s 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 man’s 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
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 it’s 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
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!”
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