Hallo! So this is probably the best idea for a book I have EVER had, so I'm posting a summary of the first chapter here. I think you'll really love this one as much as I do. I've thought about it all day and its amazing I can't even praise myself enough. Ok bye.
Mitch's POV:
"Mr. Bush, I am arresting you under strong suspicion of murder of your husband." These words rung and echoed helplessly through my head, making me weaker every second. A strong, firm grip on my arms was yanking me along my road, away from my house, and burning my skin.
"Let... Me... Go!" I sobbed angrily, confused by everything and struggling under the police officer's hold. I felt him push me forcefully into someone else's arms and watched him glare at me with his greeny-gold eyes and dark brown hair.
"Take him away, Scott." He grumbled roughly, turning and walking to the other officers and ambulances.
I knew I was in some other officer's arms, so I dared not struggle or bother anymore. Everything was pointless, and I needed to let everything go. Which I did. Before I knew it floods of salty tears streamed down my face, causing heartbroken sobs to climb out of my mouth.
I lifter my head up to 'Scott', distracting me from the sound of my feet dragging along the gravel.
The man who was taking me to a car was fairly handsome, he had blonde hair, slight stubble, crystal blue eyes and a big jaw. His mouth was closed together harshly, trying to look strict. And he was succeeding. He glanced down at me and smiled sadly, which only made me realise how gently he was holding me. He was warm and comforting, not like that other freak of a man. Then we were by a police car and I was being slowly lifted into the back. I realised then that I was crying so much that I couldn't really get in myself so I thanked the handsome man and buckled myself in.
The journey was quiet and boring. I was asked occasionally if I was alright from Scott but I only hummed quietly in response. I was actually starting to get concerned for his kindness when I started daydreaming about the incident.
*flashback*
"Little mousy Mitchy. If people only knew! You murderer." Travis slurrs angrily at me. We're walking round in circles around the living room but were a long distance apart.
I start to shrink speechlessly, not like I don't have words to say.
"See, you can't even admit it." He grumbles, picking up a book and throwing it at me. I dodge it luckily and it hits the wall.
"Travis, please! You're drunk, please stop, babe-"
"SHUT UP! You liar! You murdered my parents and you can not fucking deny it!" He screams and I shake my head.
"I'm not a murderer, Travis. I would never do that. You're drunk again, OK? Just please, please stop. Every night you come home drunk and abuse me or rape me. I've had enough!" I yell confidently but an empty vase comes flying at my face.
A dark, evil laugh comes from the blonde's throat and he exits the room without a word.
I hold my hand to my face and let out a sob, pulling bits of broken China from out of the flesh. I have a black eye forming and the other side is bloody and bruised.
Everything crashes down on me- my husband being abusive, my parents hating me and my injury. I'll never be perfect, but why do I have to be abused like I am.
My beloved husband returns from the kitchen with a pistol and I gasp.
"You wouldn't." I cry, inching back to the wall as much as I can.
"Why shouldn't I? You killed my mum and dad. They meaned more to me that you'll ever mean, you bitch." He shouts furiously and I put my hand up in the air.
"Travis, they're alive. You're imagining things, or it's just a bad dream. Please." I try to convince but it's too late.
"Good bye, Mitch." He whispers with a smile, but before he can do anything I have snatched the gun out of his hands.
"You wouldn't dare. You can't shoot a gun, you're too little and afraid. Little mousy Mitchy." He whispers.
I close my eyes tight and pull the trigger. A bullet flied out of the end and hits him right in the temple.
I drop the gun and let it bounce on the floor and immediately burst out with tears. Running to the bathroom, I splash cold water on my face and wash my hands, cleaning up. I'm in shock of what I just did. I shot my husband. I pray that the neighbours didn't hear the shot and call the cops, but after I've cured my face, it's too late, because the loud sound of sirens are heard and a loud knock at my door. I quickly throw the gun in the trash before the door is brust open.
Before I know it I'm under the grip of a really rough police officer, and being dragged out of my house and onto the road. I'm not a murderer, I told him. I am a murderer though.
*flashback over*
"I am a murder though," I mumble under my breath and wipe a tear away. With a sniffle I lean against the car wall and sigh. "I am a murderer."
SO I HOPE YOU LIKED IT, DO YOU WANT IT TO BE A BOOK
