Chrishan Descriptive Writing
The colour black never represented me in any way, it had nothing to do with my nature, until now. Like an owl roaming around the lower east side of New York streets, we created the dark shadow of terror. Our masculine body armoured with a leather jacket and painted with absurd tattoos made society turn their heads towards the ground as we walk pass. As the sun goes down, the innocence of New York sleeps, while the predators hunt for their next victim. It was icy cold, yet we could bare it all. We were like lions escaping the torment of the suffocating metal bars that kept us away from society. The ignition lighted up the smoke of marijuana in between Chrishan’s fingers, ready to inhale the beauty of a toxic killer. We sat around an enclosed corner
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I hid behind a telephone booth, watching the innocent woman feared her life. My heart pumped faster and faster almost feeling twice the terror she felt. She wanted to scream but she couldn’t while Chrishan’s hand covered her mouth almost suffocating her. I was used to the face of terror of the victims we hunted, but never before have I felt remorseful for someone else’s life in danger given to the toughest hands of a predator. I watch her carefully, focusing my eyes on her face. The ignition of butterflies exploded into my abdomen, giving me mixed feelings. Every muscle in my body twitched ready to attack. Attacking one of my own, to protect her. I breathed deeply, holding my breath. I gushed air as I exhale, taking out the gun from my back pocket. I waited for the right moment, camouflaging my figure in the shadow. I breathed one last time, though I didn’t know if it would be my last. I ran, towards them like a hungry attacker. I pointed the gun against his head, trying not to shake. My heart pounded. I’ve pointed guns to so many people without feeling guilt and fear. But today, I hold a gun pointing to one of my
I hid behind a telephone booth, watching the innocent woman feared her life. My heart pumped faster and faster almost feeling twice the terror she felt. She wanted to scream but she couldn’t while Chrishan’s hand covered her mouth almost suffocating her. I was used to the face of terror of the victims we hunted, but never before have I felt remorseful for someone else’s life in danger given to the toughest hands of a predator. I watch her carefully, focusing my eyes on her face. The ignition of butterflies exploded into my abdomen, giving me mixed feelings. Every muscle in my body twitched ready to attack. Attacking one of my own, to protect her. I breathed deeply, holding my breath. I gushed air as I exhale, taking out the gun from my back pocket. I waited for the right moment, camouflaging my figure in the shadow. I breathed one last time, though I didn’t know if it would be my last. I ran, towards them like a hungry attacker. I pointed the gun against his head, trying not to shake. My heart pounded. I’ve pointed guns to so many people without feeling guilt and fear. But today, I hold a gun pointing to one of my