Le Babe du Bush
Rob stepped jauntily out of the store and into the bright Seattle summer sunlight, his shopping bag full. In it, there were three books, a sweater, some Legos for his kids, and a new watch for his brother. Stowing the presents in his saddlebags, he climbed onto his old Harley Davidson Road King which he had restored. After he’d put on his helmet, he revved the engine, blaring that Harley sound through the streets of downtown Seattle, and pulled away from the curb. He took the long way home, going through the arboretum as if he was going to his brother’s house on Capitol Hill. The sun made beautiful patterns on the road as it came through the leaves, making the road look like a golden-brown pancake with a few burn marks. As Rob pulled out of the arboretum, the sun began to set. The sky was painted pink and blue, his
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The evening was perfect. As Rob pulled up to his house in Montlake, he realized how quiet it was. Almost too quiet. Then he smelled something tangy, like lemon juice. He parked his bike in the four-car garage, and got the presents out of the bag, and wondered if the kids were watching a movie with their mother. Yeah, that was probably it. Rob strolled through the hall between his garage and his house, and opened the door to find the carnage that was his living room. The door to the water heater room was gone, as was the wall behind where the water heater had once stood. The couch that had been placed about five feet in front of the door was cut cleanly in half, and only the skeleton remained on either side of the cut. About a third of the couch was missing. Rob saw five blackened lumps steaming on the floor, about five feet in front of the hole in the couch. The TV, or what was left of it, was smoking and sizzling, with many holes pockmarking its once smooth surface. Rob looked back at the lumps, and realized that those blackened chunks
Randall Blighton saw a silhouette of an infant in the vans window which now he says was a car seat. He felt that he couldn’t just pass by after he had just dropped off his own children with their mother. When he first arrived by the van he set out flares to make sure that everybody knew that the van was there. He then went to open the drivers side door and found that a woman’s purse was jammed between the accelerator and the firewall, that would explain the continually motion forward. He could see that a figure was lying across the front seat and that the head was tucked into the chest just over the passenger seat. He could see that the figure had on one loafer type on one foot that looked feminine. As he searched to turn on the emergency flashers and was unable to find them, not knowing that they were over head. He felt the floor to see if there was a baby. However, as he felt around he realized that the floor and seats of the van and realized why it was so hard to see through the drivers side window that was splattered with something dark, blood. Nevertheless, he felt it was more important to keep searching to find the baby instead of stopping. He shuddered and didn’t get how there could be so much blood in the van if it hadn’t been hit by another vehicle. Randall then hopped in the drivers seat and moved the van on to the shoulder of 79th where it met sunset highway.
It was a 92 degree fahrenheit morning at 9:45 on August 14th, when Doug Greene placed a call to 911. He informed the police that he was concerned because Anna had been seen wearing a sweater the previous day despite the unusual heat and wasn’t answering her calls or her door. Both the police and the EMT arrived at the crime scene at 9:56 am where they found Anna Garcia lying on the floor. They entered the crime scene and declared Anna dead. The crime scene was then secured at 10:20 am for investigation. The crime scene was confined to a 10’ by 20’ entry hallway. At the crime scene, investigators marked areas where vomit, blood stains, blood spatter, footprints, a strand of hair, scattered pills, a syringe, and dirty cup were lying on the floor. They also discovered fingerprints that could be taken to a lab for analyzation. Anna was found lying face-down against the floor surrounded by blood and vomit near her mouth. The table in the crime scene
There was this rundown, old split-level on the edge of the town owned and inhabited by a young couple. This young couple did not have much money so they had to rent out the basement. The tenant that lived in the basement was a short, old man by the name of Louis. Louis lived there for about a year, but he NEVER came out of the basement. He NEVER answered the door during rent collection but just slid it through the mail slot. After a year, the couple was considering evicting Louis, mostly because they had a fear of Louis and his shady activities in the basement. Also, the couple was due for a baby in the upcoming year and they felt it was best for Louis to go. Louis did not respond well to the eviction however. So, when the couple was cleaning out the apartment, for another tenant, a skeleton fell out of the closet and landed on the floor with a loud CRASH! The couple ran out and called the police. After the whole thing with the police was sorted out, the couple moved out. More families would move in, but on the anniversary of the eviction, the Ghost of Louis would appear and haunt the inhabitants of the house, causing them to move out. The cycle continues today, and no one has seen Louis ever again, but rumor is he died after that eviction.
Strange things began to happen the next couple days. First, Joey was in the living room of Grandma’s house making a jig saw puzzle. He heard the sound of a horses hooves walking slowly on the street then the sound stopped in front of the house and heard someone put something in Grandma’s mail box. Joey heard the horse walk away and a little while later Grandma’s mailbox blew up. Next, Ms. Wilcox’s outhouse was destroyed by a cherry bomb. Then, a dead mouse was found floating in the bottle of milk that was delivered to the front
...ng the deceased on the front porches; from there an open truck made routes through the area and picked up the bodies.
As I looked around from my cold spot on the step, I could see an old, brick house. This house was like none other on the block. With a large American flag hanging on the door, this house – a symbol of the American dream – stood taller than all the other houses. My attention then shifted to two great big evergreen trees on each facade, and the beautiful bed of flowers, of all shapes, sizes, and colors, wrapped tightly around the base of the house – the tracings of an American summer.
The cold gray light cast faint shadows onto the bike path that wound along the coast of Lake Huron and through scattered pine forest and picnic areas. Gusting wind blew around little piles of leaves, as the path made its way through an open area next to the great lake. Whitecaps and the larger swells from the lake occasionally broke up and over the small retaining wall that separated the path from the menacing water. The little boy on his bike pedaled as fast as he could through these stretches, and imagined one of the waves reaching up and over the wall, plucking him up and carrying him out into the vast expanse. He fought to keep down his panic as he rode for what had been hours through the ominous weather which, besides being cold and wet, included occasional flashes of lightning and the low menacing growl of distant
Dave started walking home. The winter was the worst time of the year for him. He had tons of paper work, and not enough light to work with. The generator he was able to afford could only power a small wattage of lights and it simply was not enough to work with. My eyes are already bad enough, he thought as he pulled off his glasses to clean the snow from the lenses. Dave readjusted his hat to better cover his face and slid the bifocals back on his nose. Snow crunched under his feet as he trudged home. It was a particularly dead night and not even the moon dared to show his face. He had no car's headlights to light his path. All he had was the occasional street lamp, ...
The house gave appearances of a forced entry, but the only items Jeff could find missing were two small diamond earrings. Blood splatter on walls and the furniture indicated a violent attach. No weapon was found at the scene, but appeared to be a blunt object with a hexagon shape on the end. The two dogs had blood on their muzzles and indications that they had fought to defend Cathy. Their
The sun dried grass crunched under David’s feet as he reached the mailbox, sweat plastering his golden hair to his forehead. The rural landscape of Shark Bay is bone dry; the lingering heat wave serving as a slap in the face with the wind blowing what is left of his fields into whirlwinds of dirt. His was once a land of luscious green landscape, the soft air turned branches into wind chimes as the trees swayed. These same trees have been bleached by the heat ridden gusts carving tortured sculpture in their trunks. Some might now see this world as one of desolate wasteland but David grew up with the land, this land was a living, growing friend that he knew, loved, and cared for as much as he did his wife and children.
Standing on the balcony, I gazed at the darkened and starry sky above. Silence surrounded me as I took a glimpse at the deserted park before me. Memories bombarded my mind. As a young girl, the park was my favourite place to go. One cold winter’s night just like tonight as I looked upon the dark sky, I had decided to go for a walk. Wrapped up in my elegant scarlet red winter coat with gleaming black buttons descending down the front keeping away the winter chill. Wearing thick leggings as black as coal, leather boots lined with fur which kept my feet cozy.
The fleeting changes that often accompany seasonal transition are especially exasperated in a child’s mind, most notably when the cool crisp winds of fall signal the summer’s end approaching. The lazy routine I had adopted over several months spent frolicking in the cool blue chlorine soaked waters of my family’s bungalow colony pool gave way to changes far beyond the weather and textbooks. As the surrounding foliage changed in anticipation of colder months, so did my family. My mother’s stomach grew larger as she approached the final days of her pregnancy and in the closing hours of my eight’ summer my mother gently awoke me from the uncomfortable sleep of a long car ride to inform of a wonderful surprise. No longer would we be returning to the four-story walk up I inhabited for the majority of my young life. Instead of the pavement surrounding my former building, the final turn of our seemingly endless journey revealed the sprawling grass expanse of a baseball field directly across from an unfamiliar driveway sloping in front of the red brick walls that eventually came to be know as home.
Walking, there is no end in sight: stranded on a narrow country road for all eternity. It is almost dark now. The clouds having moved in secretively. When did that happen? I am so far away from all that is familiar. The trees are groaning against the wind’s fury: when did the wind start blowing? Have I been walking for so long that time hysterically slipped away! The leaves are rustling about swirling through the air like discarded post-it notes smashing, slapping against the trees and blacktop, “splat-snap”. Where did the sun go? It gave the impression only an instant ago, or had it been longer; that it was going to be a still and peaceful sunny day; has panic from hunger and walking so long finally crept in? Waking up this morning, had I been warned of the impending day, the highs and lows that I would soon face, and the unexpected twist of fate that awaited me, I would have stayed in bed.
It was almost the end of the fourth day during my five day canoe trip at Algonquin Park. The bright yet faint sunset lightly shimmered onto the water as it began its descent into the sea. The water sparkled like the stars at night during the dead of winter. The crystal water was calm and serene, only gently lapping to the rhythm of our canoes and paddles. Conversely, the air trembled with energy-- throngs of mosquitoes fluttered around our heads. The humid air after the storm was thick and reminded me of rainy days. The backdrop comprised of contrasting gray rocks on the shoreline, sandy coasts that elicited beach memories and lush green deciduous forests that had began to change outfits into its autumn colors. The beauty backdrop reflected onto the water creating an incredible mirror-like image. I was frozen with wonder, amazement and awe. Time slowed down to a near standstill and I forgot everything - I forgot all my little troubles and I forgot all my trivial matters.
The sunset was not spectacular that day. The vivid ruby and tangerine streaks that so often caressed the blue brow of the sky were sleeping, hidden behind the heavy mists. There are some days when the sunlight seems to dance, to weave and frolic with tongues of fire between the blades of grass. Not on that day. That evening, the yellow light was sickly. It diffused softly through the gray curtains with a shrouded light that just failed to illuminate. High up in the treetops, the leaves swayed, but on the ground, the grass was silent, limp and unmoving. The sun set and the earth waited.