fiction
Mystery, crime, murder, unsolved cases. Contribute your own tales of crime to Criminal.
Chance Encounters
Randall knew he was never a lucky guy, if there existed such a thing as luck. He felt as though the subway doors always closed right before he stepped on, felt some other pedestrian always snagged his taxis just before he could wave it in, and felt every pretty girl in New York which he could summon the courage to talk was always taken. But today, today he found a scrap of luck in the form of an abandoned cellphone on the sidewalk.
By James Loss8 years ago in Criminal
Los Valencia
There is a special flower that blooms in massive quantities every year in Colombia, Bolivia, Peru, Ecuador, and some lonely parts of our own southern Mexico. A "perfect" flower by biological terms, it's small, yellow, smells like summer, and heralds a very busy harvest season to come. It heralds deft hands drying and grinding the leaves of the bush it grows on, before their date with a kerosene bath. A trip on a boat or on a plane, wrapped in plastic, and maybe even snug in a very desperate man's lower intestines. Finally, an exchange of American dollars for a taste of invincibility.
By Shant Suvalian8 years ago in Criminal
What Goes Around, Comes Around
The sink drains the thick red liquid from her hands after she snuck back in through her bedroom window. She stares at the dirt and blood stains on her and her clothes while the shower starts. The hot water and soap clean her flawless skin and she washes the clothes too. Once a week she goes out; once a week she avenges her horrid memories.
By lily holland8 years ago in Criminal
Porcelain Doll
When I was a child, I was lost. From the moment I was born, my life began to crumble around me. From a very young age I learned to hide my thoughts from the world, for the world thought them to be strange. I learned that, although told differently, I would not be accepted as myself. I was taught to play a part. I learned to cover who I was with a mask.
By Abigail Nance8 years ago in Criminal
The Time I Looked After Lucy
A lot of people around my town, Westvillage, call me a hero. I just say it's something I had to do, I couldn't let it happen. I have never been the sort of person to big myself up and I would always say I’m just an average girl. Hi, I'm Samantha, otherwise known as Sammy, I'm a pretty normal looking girl with brown hair and blue eyes. I never really know what to say about myself to other people, but I guess I would class myself as a kind, caring person as I like to help others as best I can. I worked as a babysitter while I was in school. I would help anyone who needed me as it is quite a small town, so everyone pretty much knows everyone. However, it was mainly the Johnson’s little girl I looked after. Anyway, let me tell you the story about one of the times I babysat for the Johnsons. This little girl I'm talking about is named Lucy. Lucy is a bright young girl to say she is only five. Her parents were going out of town for 2 days and because we know each other well they trusted me to look after her for the full two days. Her parents were hard workers and had to go out on business trips all the time, so this two-day trip was also for business. They only like to travel when they must as they adore their little girl.
By Amy Rawcliffe8 years ago in Criminal
Metal
They all knew he was going to be the one to do it. And they supposed it was fitting. He was the oldest, he was the quietest and, in truth, he cared the most. They weren’t worried about him. They were worried about Selo and Jon, because they were still young. They were still plagued with nightmares that they struggled to make sense of when they woke up. They still crept into their siblings’ room at night. Into their parents’ rooms. That’s why they were worried—because Selo would creep into their parents’ room and cry small tears and then they’d start asking questions.
By Charlotte Humphrey8 years ago in Criminal
Gotcha (Pt. 2)
Chapter 3 I jumped as the screen door slammed shut. Apparently, I was so deep in thought I didn’t hear the door open. Hunter emerged onto the back stoop in his sock-clad feet, still in his pajamas with his head hosting the "straight out of bed" look. The boy had hair for days and when he refused to shower or comb it, it turned out to be more of a rat's nest than anything else. He had a cup of juice in his hand and was looking out past me into the yard. We were southern California kids which didn’t mean we ever saw snow, but it meant we enjoyed the beauty of it more than most.
By Lindsey Cooper8 years ago in Criminal
Gotcha
“Oh my god! He’s dead! How could this have happened?” my brain screams. And yet, she’s continuing the CPR, in and out and in and out. The artificial breath for an artificial body that is no longer inhabited. She looks up at me, eyes wide in a panic, continuing to push and push on his chest, as if he’s going to start coughing and come out of it like “GOTCHA! HAHA!” But he’s not. He’s not waking up, his face, bloodied and wounded from the collapse and from hitting his face on the trailer that holds the car. And all I can do is stand there and watch her proceed to pretend that she wants to breathe life back into that body. Pretending that her keeping the boys away is for their own good. His son, so young, only ten, fresh out of the shower stares through the window of a neighboring RV. His eyes mirror the feeling I have in my heart, the feeling of mistrust and failure to bring to light the honest truth: she killed him; and now, no one will ever know.
By Lindsey Cooper8 years ago in Criminal
Murder Mystery
The detective kicked his shoe against the desk. He was tired of being one step behind the killer. Enough was enough. He sat back down in his chair and began to read through the files once more. "There must be something I had missed," he thought to himself as he reached for the cold cup of coffee. Taking a big swig of the stale drink, he looked at the crime scene photos once more. It wasn’t enough. Something was missing. He sat back up and grabbed his jacket. The crime scene was only a few blocks away. He burst out of the office and saluted his receptionist as he left the building.
By Kiana White8 years ago in Criminal
