My Dying Day Short Story

Improved Essays
Until My Dying Day “Alright, kid, why’d ya do it?” the police officer asked. He was standing in a small room, with a simple table with a chair on each side. He looked down at the boy, who was staring at the floor, and asked again. The boy didn’t move, but responded in a voice full of power, more power than the officer was anticipating. “He deserved it. I was protecting her.” “What exactly did he do? And who is this girl you’re talking about? C’mon, Emmett, just make this easy for all of us,” the cop said. That seemed to light a spark in the boy. He lifted his head to reveal a pair of two beautiful light blue eyes. His face was red and splotchy, he had obviously been distressed and crying. He smiled, showing off a set of straight white teeth. “Where do you want me to begin?
***
“Her name is Blaire. I… I love her. I’ve loved her since second grade. I remember the first time I saw her. It was on the playground, during recess,” Emmett recalled. The policeman considered stopping the kid, tell him to get straight to the day of the murder. Yet something told him no. Something told him that the boy needed to talk to someone, that he needed someone to hear his side of the story, so he listened.
…show more content…
A goddess. An angel. She does everything, she has everything. Blaire has this beautiful brown hair, it drapes down her back like a velvet cloak. Her eyes shine green everywhere she goes, her smile can turn anyone’s day into a good one. She does track, and swimming, volleyball, blah blah blah, every sport she can fit in her schedule. Every club wants her, like student council, or national honor society, or pep club. She has straight A’s, I’m pretty sure she’s valedictorian. And her voice, good God, her voice. It’s this gorgeous soprano that can fill your heart and vibrate your bones. Listening to it is so pleasurable that it should be a sin. She’s better than anyone else in that choir class, but she’s so humble, she’d never admit

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