I'm Innocent

On one cold dark night in Dublin, a crime is comitted and a life lost. But what would happen to that cold-blooded killer...
Was she innocent?


1. Murder

*Bleep Bleep Bleep*

I sigh with relief as the comforting sound of my safety lock echoes around my work street, and I start my journey to the car. In all honesty it isn't really that far, but the pitch black skies scare me when I am lone. Every sound is like a footstep; every hush of the wind a whisper in my ear. Suddenly, the squealing of a car alarm cuts through the silence, arousing my suspicions. But there's nobody around? Why is this happening? I taunt myself, almost anticipating what was certain to be my fate later that evening. Calm down Chloe - think rationally I attempt to soothe my worries. It's not a good thing to have a false sense of security. The slightest things can shatter it in mere moments.

I cross the desolate road and breathe with a sigh of relief when I reach the other side in tact. What is wrong with you! my subconsciousness mutters. It is so unusual for me to feel so wary.I am known to be the level-headed boss of this company! And here I am being frightened to death by a car alarm.

Death. Such an insignificant word; said often with no emotion, while it holds all the emotion in the world. I know how important that word is now. I have heard it a million times.

Treading softly along the tattered pavement I look towards the car park. It is in my sight. I hum slowly to myself, caught in a melodic trance. Unaware that I was not alone in my thoughts. Heavy footsteps pound behind me, a voice, a man, a gun. I spin around to face my biggest fear - an outer body experience, I whip my bag over my head in ecstacy. Watch it crash down on his head. He falls, I plunge my bodyweight onto his chest, I grab his weapon - dislocating his smallest finger to induce extreme agony. He scratches my eyeballs, protesting under my weight; scraping the hand that is holding his gun. I scream, overwhelmed and close my eyes.



The pure horror of this situation pulses through my body, forcing me to collapse on the ground beside my unintended victim. His blood seeps out of the wound like a pool of rose essance. I would know - it's in my job description. Kind of hypocritical, given how he was trying to cause me harm.

I have just killed a man. My fingerprints tarnish the weapon. I am a criminal.

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