All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
Knives Never Used
"Stop, don't do it!" The girl screamed. The boy, Jeremy looked up, his face covered in a mixture of shame, guilt, and sorrow.
"You can't stop me." he said quietly, looking back down at the shining, steel object he held out from his chest. It was a knife that he held in his two hands. Like many teenagers his age, he had been under pressure, a pressure which had led him to do horrible, terrible things. Now, he was going to pay for it. I smiled, knowing full well what was going to happen. This Jeremy was making my life so easy. He would be dead and I would get my pay, all without me lifting a finger. It doesn't really matter how he dies, just as long as I'm present to get proof that he passed away. I looked at the girl- she, on the other hand, might be a problem. She looked too strong willed and alive to want to die if she found anything out.
"I am going to do it, even if you try to stop me." He warned, his voice trembling. The girl tensed for a second, and sprinted to him, moving down, under the knife, and coming back up inside the boy's arms. She hugged him.
"There," she growled, "You wouldn't kill me would you? If you even try to bring that knife down upon yourself, I swear I'll be going down with you!" I just stared at the girl. She was a tough one all right, tough enough to be brave enough to put her life in harms way, just to save a single boy from an untimely death. She was definitely a change from the usual witnesses who just freaked out, and stood in place out of sheer horror. Her green eyes burned with determination as she whipped her head back to get her blazing red hair out of her eyes.
“Jane,” Jeremy moaned “Let go of me, this is pointless.” The haunting determination didn’t leave her eyes for a second.
“I will only let go after you have dropped the knife.”
“This girl’s determination is amazing! The boy’s however…” I murmured to myself. I shifted uncomfortably, watching the boy carefully from my perch. “The boy’s however, is wavering.” Great, so I would have to kill him anyway, and the girl as well. I reached for my knife holster, pulling out a sleek, black knife, my eyes never leaving the boy.
“Drop the knife.” The girl -Jane- calmly ordered Jeremy. After a long moment he sighed sigh, and dropped the knife.
“Great, I get the one chance to sit back and let my victim do the work, and she had to step in.” I grumbled, shifting my weight again. My legs were beginning to fall asleep. I watched as the girl snatched up the knife, grasping it tightly in her fist. Jeremy flopped onto his bed. At least, I assumed it was his bed, the room did look like it belonged to a teenage boy and there were wrestling posters on the wall. Some of the information had received along with this job said that he was a champion wrestler at
his school. This was good to know, if I tried killing him up close as I had originally
planned, I would run the risk of getting wounded and having to escape. “That wouldn’t
be good.” I mumbled aloud to myself. “Wounds equal blood. Blood equals DNA. DNA equals evidence. Evidence equals punishment. Punishment equals…” I trailed off, touching the hideous scar on my shoulder. I winced. It hurt, even though the actual wound had been inflicted over four years ago. I turned my attention back on the scene unfolding in the room. The girl, the very one who had put herself in harm’s way for Jeremy, was crying. She was something, alright.
“Wh- why di-did you do i-it? Why, Jeremy, why!? Why work for Aimone!? Why Aimone, of all people, why!?” Oh great, he had told her what he did! What was he doing!? Did he want her to get killed!?
“Fool, now that she knows, she will either hand Jeremy over to the police and tell them everything, or get herself killed by Aimone! Aimone doesn’t care that she is only trying to help the boy! If she endangers his drug business by telling the cops what she now knows, she is going to get hit listed!” I stopped myself, taken aback by that last thought. Why do I care if she dies? She is just another witness that I can’t afford to have running around. The girl has got to die. I gripped my knife even harder. The girl got up, drying her tears. I narrowed my eyes.
“Jeremy, you have to tell the police about this. Come on, I’ll drive you there.” Yes, if they line up just right, and I threw hard enough, I would be able to slice through both of their necks. Jeremy looked up at the Jane with puffy red eyes.
“Sis, you don’t have to do this.” There are major arteries in the neck, they would bleed out and die within seconds.
“Yes, I do.” Jane replied sharply. Jeremy stood and crossed over to her. They have lined up, now is my chance! Jane looked out the window to the moon above my head. She couldn’t see me, of course, I hid to well for that. She looked back at Jeremy. I leaned forward. If Jane looked out the window now, she would be able to see me. I stretched my black knife out behind me, getting ready to let it fly and seal their fate.
“I’m sorry.” I whispered, and let the knife loose…
Sarah-Jane Down stopped screaming and opened her eyes. The glass from her brother’s bedroom window lay shattered on the floor. Her brother fainted and collapsed onto the floor right beside a particularly wicked-looking shard. She didn’t notice, her attention was directed to the object stuck in the wall a foot from her head. Jane looked out her brother’s broken window, looking for the object’s messenger. She found only the moon.
And that was the night
Of a girl with red hair,
Of A killer that fell in love,
And of knives never used.