Dear Reader,
The headline of the Boston Globe sparkled in the morning sun. The glimmering words seemed to sway in the blistering summer heat. Morning commuters filled the streets and sidewalks, passing the newspaper stand. An arrogant man in a tan suit jacket tossed a cigarette at the foot of the newspaper basket. An angry woman tossed her breakfast sandwich wrapper into the basket. The words bacon, egg, and cheese were plastered on the foil, which was crumpled into a ball. A shiny gold object could be seen caught in the foil's grasp.
"I think you forgot this!" The old man selling newspapers snarled as he hurled the keys into her back window.
When she heard the clang on her car, she rolled down her windshield and returned a crooked smile.
"Thanks." She said through clenched teeth.
Clearly, she was preoccupied by staring the old man down, when she passed the seemingly invisible stop sign by the street. By the time she realised her mistake, a truck had already come hurtling toward her on her right. The tired, old man took a pack of cigarettes from his right pocket, and grasped a lighter from his left one. Carefully, he eyed up the crash that had taken place in front of him and let out a sigh.
"Always expect the unexpected, even when it's least expected" he muttered to himself while he lit his cigarette.
Lazily he tossed his smoke to his right, and went back to reading the newspaper. Slowly, the scent of smoke began to fill his nostrils, as he looked in horror at what lay beside him. Letting out screams and gasps, he ran away terrified of what had become of his newspaper shack.
That morning's headline, shone brightly in the growing fire beside it. They seemed to glimmer, like jewels embedded in the paper. The words themselves, however, seemed to let out a scream that no one heard. As the last pieces of the shack caught fire, the words reverberated through the air, filling it with a sense of mystery.
College Student Found Dead Behind Old Newspaper Shack
Robert Erfred was a tactful boy who embodied a vibrant spirit. As a Senior at Boston College, he was studying Psychology and Economics. When asked about her fondest memory with him, his mother teared up and responded through teary eyes, "Every last one of them." His father on the other hand, responded with a grunt, and spat out nonchalantly "I haven't spoken to that boy in ten years." (He declined to elaborate). Students at his university described him as "funny", "sweet","charming", "The best guy you'd ever meet", and lastly, by one annoyed female classmate, "a bit of a jerk". In High School, he was Class President and Captain of the Lacrosse Team. No more information is known about him, except a 2001 newspaper headline about him that read, Toddler Saves Baby from Burning Building, Turns Out to be a Doll.
This morning , Robert was found dead behind the newspaper stand at the corner of Beacon Street and Hammond Street. Officials report that he had been dead for approximately seven hours when Mr. Neulo found him this morning, the Twenty-Second of July, at 6 AM behind his newspaper stand. Reports say...
The night crept upon the city slowly on the night of July 21, and the sky seemingly turned dark in an instant. Small clusters of people sat on the campus grass throughout the day, but by night, a lonely male sat on one of the park benches. His eyes constantly darted between the various paths, with a glimmer of hope that died away with each glance. Almost every half hour, one of his friends would stop by and tell him to come with them to a party downtown. With an excited smile, which depleted at every encounter, Robert shook his head and stared blankly at his friend, until they gave up and left him alone. His friend always looked back at him when he reached the park gate wondering why anyone would spend their summer alone on their college campus. However, his motives were explained when a grinning man walked in through the path left of Robert's bench.
The man wore tight, white jeans and a black blazer, which covered his tall, lean build, and his hands were covered in fashionable black gloves. His facial features were unable to be made out in the dark July night, but even so, his hair was straight and brown and it was noticeably greased down harshly. His hair was parted on the side, and it travelled down in front of his ears. When he approached Robert, his face lit up, and his flashy outfit seemed dull behind his joyful grin. Robert pulled him into a tight hug, and after lingering for a few seconds, the pair walked out of the park hand-in-hand.
The dull city surroundings blurred away in their light banter. After a few blocks, the couple turned down another street, and Robert stopped them after only a few houses.
"Here it is," He said proudly.
The man by his side smiled amorously at him and grasped the doorknob.
"Are you ready?" The man in the black blazer announced without awaiting a response, as he opened the door to the house.
When they entered, a warm aroma of apple pie and a slight scent of liquor wafted through the room, while memories cascaded through Robert's mind. His childhood of running through the house unprovoked, playing with toys on the living room furniture, and eating with his mom at the dining room table seemed to play in front of him, before his mother walked into the room, interrupting his reminiscing.
'Where have you boys been?" She asked, while wrapping her son in a hug.
"It's my fault. I got held up at work," The man in the black blazer answered, expressing his remorse.
"Oh, that's fine. I was only kidding!" She responded warmly through a thick boston accent. "Now, Bobby, would you like to introduce me to your "friend"?"
With a chuckle, he replied, "Mom, this is Wesley."
His mother introduced herself, and gave Wesley a welcoming hug. Soon, they sat at the dining room table, where they shared pie and embarrassing stories. When his mother told the story that she found absolutely hilarious about Robert saving a doll from a burning building, he turned the chattering voices around him off, and glanced around the room where he sat down to eat dinner every night for eighteen years. Dismal memories filled his mind, until one cold evening almost a decade ago that always made him squirm with an unexplainable aching pain and filled his eyes with tears every time. Shrouded images concealed with regret filled his mind, as the night started to play repeatedly through his head, until he couldn't bare hearing the sound of his father's angry, disappointed footsteps marching out of the room, each step slowly unravelling the thread of their relationship, so only a frayed string was left. Finally he couldn't conceal the tears anymore, and his mother and boyfriend watched him with confusion and comfort.
Robert refused to talk about the reasons he was crying, and the night ended abruptly.
"Well, I hope you'll visit again soon!" Robert's mother yelled out the doorway, as the boys began walking down the street.
Wesley gave a polite nod, and he waved at her with his left hand, while his other arm clutched Robert.
The boys walked together back to the college campus, silently enjoying each other's company. After walking through the park gate, they began walking toward the building on the north side of the park. When they arrived at the door, Robert left his partner's grasp and pointed at the building.
"This is my place"
Wesley smiled and pulled Robert in close. His arms were wrapped snugly around Robert's neck, and he leaned into his ear.
"I always knew you would die in my arms," he whispered softly, allowing the words to float in the air.
Quickly, Wesley's hands gripped Robert's neck harshly, and his victim's expression slowly changed as his eyes grew wide, while his smile vanished. By the time he realised what Wesley had said, the grasp around his neck was restricting his air flow, and he gasped hopelessly - longing for the innocent air around them. Wesley smiled blankly at the boy and watched intently as the color drained from his face. When his breathing stopped and his pulse was gone, Wesley carried him away from the dorm building hurriedly in the night. Leaving the campus, he caught a glimpse of the newspaper stand on Beacon Street, and threw the body behind the stand, where it was shielded from the cars. Walking away from the body, Wesley cooly removed the gloves from his hands and discarded them into a city garbage can, while baring an expressionless face.
As the newspaper stand began to fade behind him, he muttered to himself, with a slight smile, "Always expect the unexpected, even when it's least expected."
Sincerely,
A confused journalist
The headline of the Boston Globe sparkled in the morning sun. The glimmering words seemed to sway in the blistering summer heat. Morning commuters filled the streets and sidewalks, passing the newspaper stand. An arrogant man in a tan suit jacket tossed a cigarette at the foot of the newspaper basket. An angry woman tossed her breakfast sandwich wrapper into the basket. The words bacon, egg, and cheese were plastered on the foil, which was crumpled into a ball. A shiny gold object could be seen caught in the foil's grasp.
"I think you forgot this!" The old man selling newspapers snarled as he hurled the keys into her back window.
When she heard the clang on her car, she rolled down her windshield and returned a crooked smile.
"Thanks." She said through clenched teeth.
Clearly, she was preoccupied by staring the old man down, when she passed the seemingly invisible stop sign by the street. By the time she realised her mistake, a truck had already come hurtling toward her on her right. The tired, old man took a pack of cigarettes from his right pocket, and grasped a lighter from his left one. Carefully, he eyed up the crash that had taken place in front of him and let out a sigh.
"Always expect the unexpected, even when it's least expected" he muttered to himself while he lit his cigarette.
Lazily he tossed his smoke to his right, and went back to reading the newspaper. Slowly, the scent of smoke began to fill his nostrils, as he looked in horror at what lay beside him. Letting out screams and gasps, he ran away terrified of what had become of his newspaper shack.
That morning's headline, shone brightly in the growing fire beside it. They seemed to glimmer, like jewels embedded in the paper. The words themselves, however, seemed to let out a scream that no one heard. As the last pieces of the shack caught fire, the words reverberated through the air, filling it with a sense of mystery.
College Student Found Dead Behind Old Newspaper Shack
Robert Erfred was a tactful boy who embodied a vibrant spirit. As a Senior at Boston College, he was studying Psychology and Economics. When asked about her fondest memory with him, his mother teared up and responded through teary eyes, "Every last one of them." His father on the other hand, responded with a grunt, and spat out nonchalantly "I haven't spoken to that boy in ten years." (He declined to elaborate). Students at his university described him as "funny", "sweet","charming", "The best guy you'd ever meet", and lastly, by one annoyed female classmate, "a bit of a jerk". In High School, he was Class President and Captain of the Lacrosse Team. No more information is known about him, except a 2001 newspaper headline about him that read, Toddler Saves Baby from Burning Building, Turns Out to be a Doll.
This morning , Robert was found dead behind the newspaper stand at the corner of Beacon Street and Hammond Street. Officials report that he had been dead for approximately seven hours when Mr. Neulo found him this morning, the Twenty-Second of July, at 6 AM behind his newspaper stand. Reports say...
The night crept upon the city slowly on the night of July 21, and the sky seemingly turned dark in an instant. Small clusters of people sat on the campus grass throughout the day, but by night, a lonely male sat on one of the park benches. His eyes constantly darted between the various paths, with a glimmer of hope that died away with each glance. Almost every half hour, one of his friends would stop by and tell him to come with them to a party downtown. With an excited smile, which depleted at every encounter, Robert shook his head and stared blankly at his friend, until they gave up and left him alone. His friend always looked back at him when he reached the park gate wondering why anyone would spend their summer alone on their college campus. However, his motives were explained when a grinning man walked in through the path left of Robert's bench.
The man wore tight, white jeans and a black blazer, which covered his tall, lean build, and his hands were covered in fashionable black gloves. His facial features were unable to be made out in the dark July night, but even so, his hair was straight and brown and it was noticeably greased down harshly. His hair was parted on the side, and it travelled down in front of his ears. When he approached Robert, his face lit up, and his flashy outfit seemed dull behind his joyful grin. Robert pulled him into a tight hug, and after lingering for a few seconds, the pair walked out of the park hand-in-hand.
The dull city surroundings blurred away in their light banter. After a few blocks, the couple turned down another street, and Robert stopped them after only a few houses.
"Here it is," He said proudly.
The man by his side smiled amorously at him and grasped the doorknob.
"Are you ready?" The man in the black blazer announced without awaiting a response, as he opened the door to the house.
When they entered, a warm aroma of apple pie and a slight scent of liquor wafted through the room, while memories cascaded through Robert's mind. His childhood of running through the house unprovoked, playing with toys on the living room furniture, and eating with his mom at the dining room table seemed to play in front of him, before his mother walked into the room, interrupting his reminiscing.
'Where have you boys been?" She asked, while wrapping her son in a hug.
"It's my fault. I got held up at work," The man in the black blazer answered, expressing his remorse.
"Oh, that's fine. I was only kidding!" She responded warmly through a thick boston accent. "Now, Bobby, would you like to introduce me to your "friend"?"
With a chuckle, he replied, "Mom, this is Wesley."
His mother introduced herself, and gave Wesley a welcoming hug. Soon, they sat at the dining room table, where they shared pie and embarrassing stories. When his mother told the story that she found absolutely hilarious about Robert saving a doll from a burning building, he turned the chattering voices around him off, and glanced around the room where he sat down to eat dinner every night for eighteen years. Dismal memories filled his mind, until one cold evening almost a decade ago that always made him squirm with an unexplainable aching pain and filled his eyes with tears every time. Shrouded images concealed with regret filled his mind, as the night started to play repeatedly through his head, until he couldn't bare hearing the sound of his father's angry, disappointed footsteps marching out of the room, each step slowly unravelling the thread of their relationship, so only a frayed string was left. Finally he couldn't conceal the tears anymore, and his mother and boyfriend watched him with confusion and comfort.
Robert refused to talk about the reasons he was crying, and the night ended abruptly.
"Well, I hope you'll visit again soon!" Robert's mother yelled out the doorway, as the boys began walking down the street.
Wesley gave a polite nod, and he waved at her with his left hand, while his other arm clutched Robert.
The boys walked together back to the college campus, silently enjoying each other's company. After walking through the park gate, they began walking toward the building on the north side of the park. When they arrived at the door, Robert left his partner's grasp and pointed at the building.
"This is my place"
Wesley smiled and pulled Robert in close. His arms were wrapped snugly around Robert's neck, and he leaned into his ear.
"I always knew you would die in my arms," he whispered softly, allowing the words to float in the air.
Quickly, Wesley's hands gripped Robert's neck harshly, and his victim's expression slowly changed as his eyes grew wide, while his smile vanished. By the time he realised what Wesley had said, the grasp around his neck was restricting his air flow, and he gasped hopelessly - longing for the innocent air around them. Wesley smiled blankly at the boy and watched intently as the color drained from his face. When his breathing stopped and his pulse was gone, Wesley carried him away from the dorm building hurriedly in the night. Leaving the campus, he caught a glimpse of the newspaper stand on Beacon Street, and threw the body behind the stand, where it was shielded from the cars. Walking away from the body, Wesley cooly removed the gloves from his hands and discarded them into a city garbage can, while baring an expressionless face.
As the newspaper stand began to fade behind him, he muttered to himself, with a slight smile, "Always expect the unexpected, even when it's least expected."
Sincerely,
A confused journalist