Smooth Criminal

March 14, 2012
By A_Journey GOLD, Tampa, Florida
A_Journey GOLD, Tampa, Florida
16 articles 2 photos 62 comments

Favorite Quote:
The Muse of Poetry should not know that roses in manure grow. ~The Formula, Langston Hughes
You may write me down in history with your bitter, twisted ties. You may trod me in the very dirt, but still, like dirt, I rise. ~Still I Rise, Maya Angelou


The man's hand is reared back, powerful, like a machine, geared and ready. He feels the divine strength inside of him, empowering him, pouring into every vein in his body, richer than his blood. He looks at the woman in front of him; she was a doe eyed specimen with lovely brown hair. The woman is frightened, her body curling up in an instinctive self defense mode. The man senses that he can control her. He unhinges his arm, lets it fly, and hears a thud as the palm of his hand connects with the woman's face. She lets out a scream. The man watches as blood from the woman's mouth spatters onto the ground, leaving blood stains on the mauve carpet.

The woman, shocked out of her deer-in-the-headlight trance, scampers underneath the peeling, secondhand store 3-legged table, like a mouse trying to avoid capture. The man is filled with a twisted heat that floods his body, igniting his fiery temper with a new wave of anger. He strides forward, toward the woman. His muscles flex as he deftly picks up the table, flinging it against the wall, relishing in the satisfaction that spreads throughout his body as it lodges itself in the wall and breaks apart, falling to the ground.

The man stares at the woman's pleading brown eyes. He pulls his leg back and lets it fly. It snaps against the woman's head with brute force, and dirt from the man's shoes falls onto the woman's beautiful brown hair. The woman's lifeless body slumps against the cracked wall.

Outside, the call of a police siren increases, climbing in a crescendo. The man walks over to the lone window in the mutilated room. He hefts himself out of the room. Then, he casually strolls away from the crime scene. He lifts his hand in greeting to a passing car.

He is a smooth criminal.


The author's comments:
As he came into the window
It was the sound of a crescendo.
He came into her apartment
He left the bloodstains on the carpet
She ran underneath the table
He could see she was unable
So she ran into the bedroom
She was struck down, It was her doom
Annie are you ok?
So, Annie are you ok?
Are you ok Annie?
- Smooth Criminal, Michael Jackson

Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 2 comments.


A_Journey GOLD said...
on Jul. 18 2012 at 3:04 pm
A_Journey GOLD, Tampa, Florida
16 articles 2 photos 62 comments

Favorite Quote:
The Muse of Poetry should not know that roses in manure grow. ~The Formula, Langston Hughes
You may write me down in history with your bitter, twisted ties. You may trod me in the very dirt, but still, like dirt, I rise. ~Still I Rise, Maya Angelou

Thank you! :)

on Jul. 17 2012 at 8:35 pm
ShadowAngel2468 SILVER, Stroudsburg, Pennsylvania
7 articles 3 photos 70 comments
OMG wow that was smazingly genious! i love the way you really set the scene for this and exicuted it perfectly, loved it!


SciArc

MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!