The crime scene was paradise decimated.
Her name was Iris. I got that out of her diary. Records of a lost soul that had found death while death was finding her. Reading through her memories was like encountering living dementia. Very little made any sense. She was a strung-out, broken girl with almost no imagination. I learned little.
The place smelled of cyanide and gunpowder. She took the cyanide; probably hoping for a quick end to whatever demons were chasing her. But one of her demons caught up with her not realizing she'd already done the job. Whoever it was shot her to pieces; leaving an almost unrecognizable rag-doll to bleed into the floorboards and the tangles of her salon inspired weave.
It made me cringe, having to turn the small, frail form over to count the bullet holes. How such a small body could soak up so much lead was beyond me. I couldn't but think how ironic it was: how unnecessary it was to shoot her. But that is the price, I suppose, someone must pay when falling to the sway of drugs and easy money.
Poor Iris. The trouble is, she is not irreplaceable. What happened here in this apartment is only a reflection of things that happen in every big city around. Good girl goes bad and bad guys act harsh against good girls. I've seen this too many times: paradise lost.
Author notes
All words from wordbank in this order: paradise, iris, diary, records, dementia, broken, imagination, cyanide, pieces, ragdoll, bleed, tangles, weave, cringe, ironic, price, sway, irreplaceable, reflection.
In a list
A contest entry
- Lucky ##7 ~*♥♥*~Options Contest~*♥♥*~ Lucky ##7 by Whisper Trinity.
900 points, ended August 13, 9 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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Oh, how you finished it with those two words!
This is juicy and left me wanted more!
Ever considered story writing?!
Well done on a FAB write!
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mmmm
wow i hate you clever gits who can write novels/short stories aswell as poetry.....excellent..... cheers my mate....keep cool
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how to pick out one line
Her name was Iris. I got that out of her diary. Records of a lost soul that had found death while death was finding her. Reading through her memories was like encountering living dementia. Very little made any sense. She was a strung-out, broken girl with almost no imagination. I learned little
please write more!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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Excellent
I really like this its chilling and interesting. I loved it! Good luck in the contest and thank you for entering!
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Thank you
For the silver trophy. It is an encouragement to be sure. Your word bank gave me a write I was proud to enter in your contest.
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i ahve a book here that came to my home by accident all about death and times and autopsy - it was a brilliant read, i will have to look it up in bit and give you the title author etc - please remind me later.
Time Of Death it is called by Jessica Snyder Sachs - The true story of the search for death's stopwatch - as i say, it arrved through post one day, as i was in a bookclub, and they sent this along by mistake. i read it and was fascinated. it is a bood i recommend to anyone interested in life and death.
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That book is on my "to read" list with about 20 others. I shall move it forward on my list. Thanks for the review.
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