Beach Box

Every night for the last twenty years I have strolled down the same

beach, the same path and at the same time. My life was boring but I

loved it. In one week that was all about to change.

It was the 26th of October. The nights were getting darker and

colder. I put on my coat, shoes, scarf and picked up the house keys

and prepared for my daily walk. The beach was quite near, only two

minutes away.

The tide was high. The moonlight glistened off the waves which were

gently stroking the sand when they fell and rustled as they moved

across the sea-shells. The horizon was clear as far as you could

see. The smell of seaweed and salt was strong and the air was fresh.

It was bitterly cold and the wind felt like icicles as it hit my face.

But this night was different, I had company. In the distance I saw

two men. They were both dressed in black and acted rather

suspiciously. They whispered to each other and tiptoed around. I

knew they were up to something. They jogged over to a black van and

took something out of the boot. It was approximately 6ft long by 2ft

wide. They went back to the van and got some shovels. They started

digging. Was it a body? Had these people murdered someone?

I was agitated and did not want to see anymore so I ran back home.

Away from danger. Away from fear.

That night I could not sleep. I tossed and turned in bed all night.

I kept thinking about what I was to do. Call the police? Tell

someone? But I was curious and I decided that on the next day I would

go and dig it up.

In the morning all I could think about was the night before. I could

not concentrate on anything. I deci...

... middle of paper ...

...s to prove you were burying

the box.”

“You framed me! I was digging the box out! You put it in there!” I

shouted.

The man stood there and sneered at me. “I’ll see you later, in Hell!”

He laughed and walked out of the cell.

I was framed. Those beady eyes haunted me every night. Later that

week on the way to the court I made my escape.

During the following few months I sought evidence to prove my

innocence. Eventually through a lucky break I managed to find some

CCTV footage showing the two crooks loading a van with rifles behind a

warehouse.

Now, I sit here on the beach in Barbados sipping my scotch relaxing

under the sunshine. The two crooks who framed me are enjoying their

sentence in prison. I still go for my daily walks, not in cold dreary

weather but in the sunshine of the Caribbean.