Hung
I was woken by a loud yelling, within minutes I was hauled out onto the platform where my hands were tied. Many people had come to watch me die. Looking around there must have been at least five hundred people, all there to witness my death. A masked hangman placed the rope around my neck and plodded over to the lever, the crowd cheered, I closed my eyes and waited...
We were poor. My mother and father had died of antiquity. I knew that I shouldn’t but what would I do if I didn’t? My mum and dad were the ones who supplied us with money.
Under the veil of dusk, I crept around the dark, gloomy streets. I hid in the shadows searching for a target; I darted through an alleyway and peeked out to scan the other side of the streets. Then suddenly a man sprinted towards me followed by an elderly woman yelling, “Lifter!” I hid in a doorway. He crouched down examining his spoils. His grin nearly spread all the way across his face. I approached him. Eventually I was within striking distance. I leapt at him and quickly blocked his mouth and shushed him. Then I slashed his arm. Blood spurted everywhere covering the walls. I gave him one crushing blow to the stomach. Slowly he fell backwards smashing his head on the wall behind him, and collapsed to the floor. His eyes were closed. I looted the remains but as I stepped away he gripped my ankle, his hand red with blood. He pulled me down to the ground and whispered in my ear, “Why?”
I sat down on my bed and realised what I had done. Was I a murderer? I knew that I had done really bad things, but somehow they all seemed so right. There was a tingle inside of me, making me feel like I should do it again and again and again. I didn’t really have any other choice. It was either that or die. Inside I knew it was bad but I had to do it if I wanted to live.
At dusk I emerged from my lair. I hurried over to the other side of the town in case of recognition, then all of a sudden a lumbering figure span out of the tavern, the perfect target. I walked up to him and ‘helped’ him into an alleyway. When we had got far enough in I threw him on the ground and made a small slit in his throat. Once the flow had stopped and I was sure he was dead I lightened his load and crept back home.
This was getting easy now; I might have even been considered a professional. It was my talent. The more I thieved the more bloodthirsty I became. Although my career as a thief would end one cold wintry evening.
On a cold wintry evening I scanned the streets, searching for a target just for the sheer wealth and enjoyment of it all. There was always some other people standing along the street with a hat covering their face. So they were an indicator not to steal from people in that area. As they were probably members from the Parish. All of a sudden I saw this women wearing silk, she also had a pearl necklace. I reached out for the necklace grabbed it pulled it and all the pearls scattered across the floor. The women turned round and yelled, “Lifter!” I reached in my pocket looking for the knife but it was then I realised that it had gone. Suddenly two men ran into the alleyway from each side. They ran up to me and one gave me a blow round the face and the other gave a blow to the stomach. I crumpled down to the floor with pain. Then everything went black.
I was woken by a loud yelling. Within minutes I was hauled out onto the platform where my hands were tied. Many people had come to watch me die. Looking around there must have been at least five hundred people, all there to witness my death. A masked hangman placed the rope around my neck and plodded over to the lever, the crowd cheered, I closed my eyes and waited... waited for him to put my life to an end.
By Theo Tillett
I was woken by a loud yelling, within minutes I was hauled out onto the platform where my hands were tied. Many people had come to watch me die. Looking around there must have been at least five hundred people, all there to witness my death. A masked hangman placed the rope around my neck and plodded over to the lever, the crowd cheered, I closed my eyes and waited...
We were poor. My mother and father had died of antiquity. I knew that I shouldn’t but what would I do if I didn’t? My mum and dad were the ones who supplied us with money.
Under the veil of dusk, I crept around the dark, gloomy streets. I hid in the shadows searching for a target; I darted through an alleyway and peeked out to scan the other side of the streets. Then suddenly a man sprinted towards me followed by an elderly woman yelling, “Lifter!” I hid in a doorway. He crouched down examining his spoils. His grin nearly spread all the way across his face. I approached him. Eventually I was within striking distance. I leapt at him and quickly blocked his mouth and shushed him. Then I slashed his arm. Blood spurted everywhere covering the walls. I gave him one crushing blow to the stomach. Slowly he fell backwards smashing his head on the wall behind him, and collapsed to the floor. His eyes were closed. I looted the remains but as I stepped away he gripped my ankle, his hand red with blood. He pulled me down to the ground and whispered in my ear, “Why?”
I sat down on my bed and realised what I had done. Was I a murderer? I knew that I had done really bad things, but somehow they all seemed so right. There was a tingle inside of me, making me feel like I should do it again and again and again. I didn’t really have any other choice. It was either that or die. Inside I knew it was bad but I had to do it if I wanted to live.
At dusk I emerged from my lair. I hurried over to the other side of the town in case of recognition, then all of a sudden a lumbering figure span out of the tavern, the perfect target. I walked up to him and ‘helped’ him into an alleyway. When we had got far enough in I threw him on the ground and made a small slit in his throat. Once the flow had stopped and I was sure he was dead I lightened his load and crept back home.
This was getting easy now; I might have even been considered a professional. It was my talent. The more I thieved the more bloodthirsty I became. Although my career as a thief would end one cold wintry evening.
On a cold wintry evening I scanned the streets, searching for a target just for the sheer wealth and enjoyment of it all. There was always some other people standing along the street with a hat covering their face. So they were an indicator not to steal from people in that area. As they were probably members from the Parish. All of a sudden I saw this women wearing silk, she also had a pearl necklace. I reached out for the necklace grabbed it pulled it and all the pearls scattered across the floor. The women turned round and yelled, “Lifter!” I reached in my pocket looking for the knife but it was then I realised that it had gone. Suddenly two men ran into the alleyway from each side. They ran up to me and one gave me a blow round the face and the other gave a blow to the stomach. I crumpled down to the floor with pain. Then everything went black.
I was woken by a loud yelling. Within minutes I was hauled out onto the platform where my hands were tied. Many people had come to watch me die. Looking around there must have been at least five hundred people, all there to witness my death. A masked hangman placed the rope around my neck and plodded over to the lever, the crowd cheered, I closed my eyes and waited... waited for him to put my life to an end.
By Theo Tillett