Death Beneath My Blanket

I was only fifteen years old when I died, my own fault though. The first time I felt real pain, although I solved my first ever crime and my last. This is the story of me, Jessica Cox.

I was afraid that day. Having a gun pointed at me. The cool metal object pressed against my body that sent a cold numbness down my spine. I almost collapsed with fear. I had a firm grip on my camera; I think he saw me because the gun pressed harder on my body. I felt his breath against my neck constantly , the stench filled the only pleasant air I had left. The piercing tune of his voice destroyed the silence. “for the last time, give me your camera!”. this time I had enough , ‘‘No!” I said in a firm yet scared voice. He laughed for a while, then I heard him playing with the trigger , at that moment I regretted my words , I closed my eyes tight. Then his hand slipped off my shoulder and I couldn’t feel the gun, my eyes widened and I found myself smiling. Without a even thinking I raced towards the gate of the junk yard and climbed over, two gun shots followed me. One bullet hit a broken car that caused the windows to shatter, and the other glanced of a lamp post and the ricochet killed an innocent passer by. I walked away from the corpse while others walked towards him. That day the investigation started , the tape I filmed. Why did he want it so much ? Why was it so important?

The next day I was at school , I loved school . You never can learn too much , in fact I was hoping to become a teacher on career day . At English I was learning about jack the ripper . Every time Mr fisher mentioned his name I shivered . See jack the ripper was a killer too in 1888, he used to kill women, six, no one knows if he’s still around.

At lunch I sat by the window and saw something really familiar, there was a face in the distance but before I could think it disappeared. After school I was on my laptop, I was watching the video for the third time and finally realised something in the background a couple of male were beating a woman! I saw them stuff the corpse in the car and drive off , some stayed behind laughing. It was like a copy of jack the ripper. I decided to tell a detective I knew who didn’t have any contact with the police, my dad.

I picked the phone up and dialled rapidly then I looked out the window.
I didn’t know what to say hey dad I’ve just witnessed the worst ever crime, and I need advice!
I knew how silly that sounded, but I also knew contacting the police never helped solve anything.

This was one of the times I had no one to turn to. I remembered the man who pointed the gun at me. I remembered the breathing on my neck, the tips of my finger touched my neck. See I wanted to be a detective since I was a 8 years old. I had all the equipment, fingerprint print scanner, laptop, mini microphones hidden in a coat. My dad was the top detective. I wanted to be just like my father. I had a lot of investigation to do so the next day I returned to the crime scene, the death spot, my nightmare.

The sun approached the orange sky. I decided this was the time, I woke up and dressed into my jeans and top, I took my camera for photos. Then I was off, I wasn’t thinking right, my sight turned into a blur and I almost collapsed.
“I’m sick,” I told myself “ I’m completely sick”. when I approached the door I stopped and walked towards the stairs then I paused again. I sighed and limped to the door, opening it made my hair rise the morning air brushed against my face and made me feel much relaxed. I finally arrived at the abandoned junk yard, I had some difficulties climbing the gate but I managed to climb over.

I returned to the place I was held, a vision went through me, I remembered that day, the fright and worry, the anger and hope, at that moment I felt weak and before I knew it my mind became blank. I found myself on a bed at our local hospital, I saw all the faces staring down at me. My dad was crying, I thought I was going to cry. A tall dark man approached my bed, “Jessica Cox, wandering in dump yard isn’t very healthy”. I looked away, the doctor walked towards another patient then frowned and shock his head, he did the same to a mother and she burst out in tears, all doctors ever do is spread misery! As I gazed out I saw a face then it disappeared. I knew it was familiar but instead of worry I fell asleep.

Dad took me home in the car. He said he was very disappointed in me, and very concern about my actions. I shut my eyes and didn’t speak the whole journey back. At home I ran upstairs to my bedroom. I returned to my laptop and sent the details to my father, I did trust him. I sat down by the window staring outside, then I saw it again, a face right at the window staring right at me, it was a man, it was the gun man. He stood their smiling I shook my head, “please, please”. I cried and cried but still didn’t call for help. He Pointed the gun at me once more, and finally shot me right through my chest. That was the last time I ever felt my heart beat.