fiction
Mystery, crime, murder, unsolved cases. Contribute your own tales of crime to Criminal.
The Real Wall Flower
“Hey Universe, it’s me again”. These words moved through the young woman’s mind. Like a breeze that rustles through trees. She did this regularly. She is a lost woman who lays in her bed at night talking to herself, wondering if she is crazy or if she is talking to a higher vibration of some sort. “Please lead me in the right direction, help me to see the truth I need to prevail in this life.” These are the types of words she spoke to herself at night, or in quiet moments throughout the day. As a child these rituals were similar but with variations of word play. The words sounded more like, “Dear God, thank you for this day please help me to not be scared, help mom make money and quit smoking. Help my Dad not be fat.” Even as a child she questioned her sanity while speaking to this higher entity. As the girl moved to adulthood, she questioned the existence of this entity that she gave her thoughts to. But the doubt of the existence of the higher being left almost as quickly as it came. And the doubt no longer mattered because in those moments of discussion with herself there is comfort.
By Aurielle Chell6 years ago in Criminal
Chores are the worst.
The mornings always started early for Portia. It was imperative that she was the first one up, which meant waking up earlier than Mr. Gamu. She didn’t think it was a stretch to suspect that he had some debt with the devil in his dreams because of his tumultuous relationship with sleep. The man consistently went to bed at midnight, and by three in the morning, he would be up scouring his vast domain - a six-bedroom pantheon of a house- searching for whatever he had lost in his dreams. Mr. Gamu’s early mornings meant Portia had to be up and ready at least fifteen minutes before, with a bucket full of water, slightly warmer than room temperature- as he liked it. Mr. Gamu had always insisted on bathing as soon as he woke up. It was essential, and Mr. Gamu promised it worked better than coffee (which, of course, was still a daily requirement right after the bath). He didn’t bother Portia much once he had received his coffee and his bed was done.
By Tinashe chikomo6 years ago in Criminal
From Rome To Berlin
Berlin had known that it was too good to be true. She should have known that money doesn't just fall in your lap. Especially when the money is attached to a little black book. She had watched enough scary movies to know that. Yet that didn't stop her from accepting the money and the terms. How much money do you ask? A whopping 20,000. Given that her and her long term boyfriend of 3 years were struggling financially it sounded like a good idea at the time. It was funny how quickly her mind changed after already spending a third of the money on her new living space, car, and decent clothing. She glanced over at Rome as he locked eyes with her. He knew what they needed to do. Having the book in hand he started to glance at the first thing that needed to be done on the list. Scribbled in bold letters the first sentence read as followed.
By Lioness Dadon6 years ago in Criminal
How It Started
It was a mild, gloomy day when Joseph Richardson stepped out of the taxi cab and onto the sidewalk. This wasn't unusual for Port City, Washington. Looking up he could see a small, tattered house rather out of place in an otherwise upscale neighborhood. The pale green paint had begun to fade and chip away, the white trim now turning brown from years of dust. The lawn was unkempt with patches of green and brown like a patchwork quilt. As he stood there, Joseph couldn't help but think of all the wonderful memories he had had here. With a labored sigh, he pushed open the barn red door and stepped inside.
By Gabriel Villegas6 years ago in Criminal
Little Black Book
I remember that Tuesday starting like any other Tuesday, with my arrival at TongueAss and a visit with Priscilla Hewlett on my schedule. My name is Jess Rupert and I am a Recreational Activity Worker at ToungeAss, which is slang used by the residents and staff at Tongass Retirement Villa in Juneau, Alaska.
By Jason Anderson6 years ago in Criminal
Depths Of Deception
It was all because of that damned book. Sarah wished she had never found it. That thought went through her head on a regular basis these days. She remembered it like it was yesterday. She had suspected her husband of cheating for a while. So, she started following him. She rented a car on a regular basis, had even bought a wig to disguise herself. On one outing, when she got into her usual rental, the black notebook was tucked in the visor. It had fallen when she flipped it against the sun. She didn’t have time to inspect the book until she got to the rendezvous point where her ex-husband had gone. Once she was parked, she pulled the notebook out while she waited. Inside, where the endpaper should’ve been glued down, it had been pried from the cover just enough to create a small pocket. There was a small key tucked inside. She recognized it belonged to People’s Bank. She had banked there before she switched to a joint account with Andrew at Chase Bank.
By Jessica Rice6 years ago in Criminal
As You Wish
“Mr. Beene can’t you just take a look?” “I’ve told you Justin - time and time again - what your role is here. You don’t seem to understand so let me spell it out for you: YOU ARE NOT A REPORTER! You write fluff, human interest pieces. I don’t want to hear your ideas! I want you to do the job I assigned you!”
By Ashley Hines6 years ago in Criminal
Las Mata Maridos
I wanted to take a moment to tell you a bit about myself before we delve into the countless stories that will follow. My name is Arlene Sanabria. Born and raised in East Los Angeles, California. The idea behind the women came from a set of music videos my brother and the musical group, also based out of L.A.; Casa De Calacas, which was composed by family and friends redid two mexican classic songs by Jose Alfredo Jimenez. The rough video plot, if memory serves me well is the down on his luck drunk loses his lady love to another guy and she has the nerve to flaunt it in his face. He sings the first song (Ella) while surrounded by girls. Promoted on Myspace which back then was the social media giant as an all call for all the young honeys.
By Las Matamaridos6 years ago in Criminal
