Never write murder mysteries when you’re home alone
One of this week’s writing assignments was to “write a story–can be about anything, but put the last image (can be more than one sentence) at the beginning of the story. Similar to some of Quentin Tarantino’s films–starting the movie with the end. Make it interesting and fun!”
I decided to add on to my already developing noir murder mystery story. Earlier today (as you can find below) I developed a character for my “Character Dossier” assignment. I have a feeling we are going to be writing a story about our made-up character very soon, and thought why not not kill two bird with one stone. I didn’t want to go any further than I did because even I am not sure where this story is going yet. I still don’t know if I want to write it in James’ or Cecilia’s point of view, or have no point of you. I even don’t know who the real murderer is yet. I need to take the time and figure all this out before I write anymore. So hopefully what I have done tonight is sufficient. I’m excited to see where this goes!
As they approached the back gate they could hear nothing. Silence. Silence is all they heard as they drew near. They cautiously opened the latch, not knowing what to expect. All they heard on the 911 call was the blood curdling screams of Cecilia as she found her dead husband’s body floating in the pool. After opening the gate and rounding the corner of the house, they saw what could only be described as blood soaked scene. Cecilia was sitting by the pool in utter silence, covered in her own blood, staring at her husband’s body floating ominously on the surface of the water. Her stare did not break. She did not react or even blink when the emergency responder men touched her shoulder trying to free her of that trance like state she was in. Her clothes were torn and stained red; she had bits of glass in her hair and cuts all over her body. She had one big gash on the back of her shirt where blood was still pouring. The body in the water looked almost peaceful as it rotated slowly…ever so slowly, in tiny circles around the pool.
(Earlier that day)
Cecilia and James arrived home around seven P.M., after a long and sunny day out on the beach. They had spent the day in laughter, bliss, and sunshine, almost as though nothing was wrong in the world. It was on very rare occasion that James could sneak away from the office and spend alone time with Cecilia. He was the CEO and founder of a global trading company, and was in demand almost every second of the day. James had noticed recently that Cecilia was not acting herself. He thought depression might be creeping in, so he made sure to spend the day doting on her and her alone. Once at the beach Cecilia began to act herself once more. James always thought she was so beautiful when she was smiling and laughing. That was his favorite sight in the world, his happy wife. They walked along the water, soaked up the heat, and split a sandwich when the sun began to set.
After arriving home the ecstasy continued. They showered together, getting the sand out of every crevasse of each other’s bodies. They continued the charades in the bedroom, until hunger broke the love high. They headed down to the kitchen to see what food they could conjure up. They cracked open a bottle of champagne, and celebrated their day together with a mild buzz and a few strawberries. They sat on the floor by the fireplace, watching the flames flicker, smelling the smoke rise. James thought to himself how this was probably the most intimate day they had spent together in a long time. He was drowning in the feelings of delight when all of a sudden he heard footsteps coming up behind them.