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Old 07-19-2005, 10:39 AM
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elciepbvg elciepbvg is offline
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Get Out Of My Head

I wrote this story a few years ago in Creative Writing. It was my first ever big story that had to have a focus. Our story had to be a murder mystery. This was mine. (Sorry for the spacing issues... It didn't turn out exactly how I wanted it to since I wrote it in WordPad.)

Get Out Of My Head

Soft crying could be heard throughout the house. Very soft compared to the

occasional thunder outside.

"Must kill, must kill, must kill," chanted an unknown voice. It crept closer and

closer to the crying. It was almost pitch black outside. The only light was the

lightning. BOOM! Lightning streaked across the sky.

The chanting voice got to the door. It slowly opened. The crying was louder

now. The voice quickly slipped inside and shut the door.

The lightning illuminated the room a second at a time. A dresser. A bear in

the corner. A dollhouse in front of the closet. A crib against the wall. Eyes rested

on the squirming infant inside.

"Vivian," a whispered word. The voice slid across the room until it was beside

the pitiful whimperings of the 4 month old. She stared up at the intruder and

smiled a big toothless grin. That merry grin soon faded when a hand was brought

up, then down upon Vivian in one fluid motion. The baby didn't even know what

hit her. In the hand of the intruder before was a newly sharpened pencil. Now it

stuck straight out of baby Vivian's forehead as blood trickled in spider webs

across her face and stained the crisp, white sheets.

"Bye bye, baby," said the voice as it left the room to walk casually back to

its own.



Rain splattered against the crusty windshield of Derek Motley-Vinely's '91

red, Ford Escort. It was starting to slip on the road. The car made some

charateristically weird, screeching sounds, as the front left tire clicked.

"Dammit!" he yelled as the car died and swerved to the embankment of

the road. Derek tried to start the horrid car again, but to no avail. It would

not start.

"What to do, what to do? What should I do, Jerboa-Bethany?" Derek

stretched around behind him to look in the backseat. Since he had one of

those touch lights in his car, he could see clearly. "Hi, JB! How's my little

girl? Come here, pretty baby!" A tiny brown dog of mixed breeds hopped

into Derek's open arms.

"Aww, you're such a lovely baby. Yes you are. Yes you are!" Derek

started talking to Jerboa-Bethany in a voice that a mother would use with

her baby. "Okay, Jerboa, what do you think we should do?" Jerboa-Bethany

barked three sharp times, each time they shook her whole body.

"Hmm, I don't know if there's any houses. I've never been down this road

before." Jerboa-Bethany barked again. "Because I thought this was a short

cut! You know we just moved here last week. It's not like I know where

everything is," Derek sounded really irratated. The dog barked again. "I was

going to check anyway!" Derek turned and peered out the window. He slide

his glasses back up on his face. The rain had let up a little while he was talking

to Jerboa-Bethany. Now he could see lights coming from what was probably

a house.

"What good luck. A house," Derek chirped happily and smiled. "Come, JB.

If there are lights, then there are people. They'll hopefully be nice enough to give

us shelter until I'm able to get the car towed. Hop into my pocket, Jerboa!" The

dog did as it was told and jumped skillfully into the oversized trench coat pocket.

Derek opened the door. A light wall of rain dropped into the car. Derek slid

both of his legs out, stood up, then closed the door to the car. With his head

bent and his hand covering his dog, Derek jogged toward the lights. As he got

closer, he saw that it was a house. In the middle of the building was a door,

which looked like a front door. Derek headed for the door.

He stood under the light above the door. It was almost like it was waiting for

him. The door opened. Derek let out a high pitched, lady-like scream. So did

the little girl who had opened the door. Both screams sounded like they came

from the same person.

"Mommy!" screeched the girl as she slammed the door in Derek's face.

Derek, now breathing heavily, could hear murmerings on the other side of the

door, but he couldn't decipher any words. He could tell the little girl was talking

frantically. He could also hear an older, calmer female's voice.

Seconds later, the door opened for the second time. A smiling, though

worried face emerged from the light. The girl was behind her mother and

grasped onto her leg like a small child would.

"Hello," smiled the mother. "I'm Miranda Greenen, and this is Alice," she

gestured to the girl huddled behind her. "May we help you?"

"Ah, yes. My name is Derek Motley-Vinely. And. Well. I was driving along,"

Derek gestured to the road which could hardly be seen in the setting sun. "And,

well, my car stopped. I can't get it started. So, I was wondering if, maybe, I could

stay here in your lovely home until the storm ends and I can get my car towed."

Derek ended with a smile, hoping that would win Ms. Miranda Greenen over.

"I don't know," Miranda hesitated. "You are a stranger, after all..." she let her

sentence drift off into the silence.

"Oh yes. About that." Derek fumbled about his pockets, looking for his badge.

"Agg! It's in here somewhere!" He shoved his hand roughly into a pocket, and

squished his dog. Jerboa-Bethany let out a big yelp, jumped out of the pocket,

and ran into the house. "Oh dear," muttered Derek. Alice ran after the dog. "Hm.

Well, that was my dog, Jerboa-Bethany, or more fondly known as JB. And this is

my badge." Derek held his dectective badge, which he just received only a week

before, to Miranda. "I'm a detective," he said helpfully. Miranda glanced at the

badge, looked back at her little girl with Jerboa, and sighed.

"Alright, come in. I'll have to tell everyone you're here in a mintue or two."

Miranda held the door open as Derek stepped in.

"You have a lovely room, very bright. It reminds me of my childhood home,"

Derek said politely of the red entry room. Miranda cringed at the word

"childhood," but kept calm.

"Thank you, Detective." Miranda led Derek down the entrance hall and to the

living room on the right.

"Please, call me Derek." Derek sat down at the long, red couch. A few toys

littered the floor. Miranda sat down on the armchair. Alice trotted in with Jerboa

in tow.

"Look, Mom, she likes me!" Alice said excitedly.

"Yes, hunny. Why don't you go in the kitchen and play. That is, of course, if

it's okay with Detective Derek." Miranda looked pointedly at Derek.

"Oh yes, of course she can. Jerboa loves to play." Alice smiled, picked up

Jerboa, and left the room.

"So," Derek continued. "Who's everybody?"

"You've met Alice. She's 8. There's also my husband Bob, and my two sons

Diego and Jasper. Jasper is 24. He's home for the rest of this month. He's in

the middle of job situations since he just got out of college. He went to Harvard,

you know."

"That very impressive. What was he studying for?"

"Doctor. He was an orderly at the Massachusetts General Hospital, but once
graduated, he quit to spend some time with his family," bragged Miranda.
"What about Diego? How old is he?" Miranda's face went dark at Derek's
innocent question.
"Diego is 17. He's a good kid. His intentions are good, for the most part."
Miranda's eyes roamed around the room. They landed on a stuffed Winnie the
Pooh. She looked back at Derek and said, "I also have another little girl. She's
4 months old."
"What's her name?"
"Vivian Isabel Calcove."
"I thought your name was Greenen...?"
"It is. Vivian's father is Barry Calcove. I had an affair," Miranda said stiffly,
but dared him with her eyes to say something.
"Oh, well. That's okay." In an attempt to get off the subject of the affair, Derek
blurted out, "How much did Vivan weigh?" Miranda glanced at him, got up, and
started picking up the few toys still left on the floor.
"When she was born, I think she was 7 lbs 8 oz. Or was that Jasper?"
Miranda shoved her armful of toys in the toy box in the corner of the room that
Derek hadn't seen before.
"If you'll wait here, I need to inform everyone of your existance." Miranda left
room without another word. Derek felt a little odd to be in a stranger's home,
but what could he do?
Laughter was heard from a few rooms away. Stomping could be heard
coming down the stairs, then down the hall. An energenic looking man stepped
over the threshold, entering the living room.
"Hello, I'm Jasper Greenen." Derek stood up and looked Jasper in the eye.
"Hi, I'm Derek Motley-Vinely. Nice to meet you." They briefly shook hands,
then sat down on the couch.
"My mother is talking to my younger brother Diego, and my father. They'll be
down soon, I suppose."
"That's nice. It will be wonderful to meet the whole family." Jasper glanced at
the clock hanging on the opposite wall above the television set.
"Hmm," Jasper muttered. "It's been 2 and a half hours since Viv went down
for her nap. She usually only sleeps for an hour."
"Maybe she's just getting older. Children tend to do that. But maybe we
should check on her to see if things are okay."
"Yeah, that would good. You can probably meet Diego, too." Jasper and
Derek got up. Jasper led Derek to the stairs. "We usually have to end up forcing
Diego to meet people. He doesn't have very good people skills."
They stopped in front of a door. Jasper rapped softly. No one answered. Soft
murmerings could be heard behind the door at the end of the hall. Jasper saw
Derek looking at the door.
"That's mom and dad's room." He slowly opened the door. "This is Diego's
room. Hey, Daygo! How's my little bro?" They both stepped into Diego's
obviously male room. Clothes, video games, and papers were skattered
everywhere. Under the mess a few Playboys could be seen.
"Get out," Diego said without looking up from the guitar magazine he was
looking at. Derek looked around for the source of the smokey smell he had
smelt when he entered. He located it at the desk in the far left corner. Diego
had lit an incense.
"This is Detective Derek Motley-Vinely, Diego. His car broke down and
he's going to be staying with us." Diego looked at Derek when Jasper said
"detective."
"You don't look like a detective," was Diego's blatant remark.
"Oh. Well, I just passed my test to become a detective. That's why I'm here.
I took a job as a private detective in Ronwich. Monday is supposed to be my
first day, but I'm not sure if I'll be able to make it. I am about 40 miles away,
still."
"You don't have to explain. We'll see what we can do. Diego," Jasper turned
back to his brother. "Has Vivian cried at all? She's been sleeping for a while
now."
"I don't know. I'm not her father." As a blow off, Diego grabbed a remote and
turned on Get Low by Lil Jon and the Eastside Boyz. Jasper shook his head. He
motioned for them to leave, and they did.
Jasper side stepped past Derek and lightly tapped on the room across from
Diego's. He opened it, then switched on the light next to the door. Derek moved
behind Jasper, expecting him to enter the room. What Jasper did do was jump
back in fright and ran right into Derek. Derek balanced him, but Jasper fell to the
ground. He was hyperventilating and his eyes started to water.
"Wha-" Derek started, but looked into the room. What he saw chilled his
bones. Baby Vivian lay frozen in her own pool of blood. The pencil still stood
erect from her forehead. Derek's hand flew to his mouth. He gagged.


"Mr. and Mrs. Greenen. I'm sorry to say this, but your daughter Vivian is dead,"
said a mild voice that didn't sound sympathetic at all. Miranda Greenen burst
into tears, finding comfort in her own hands. Bob Greenen just sat there and
sipped his beer and reclined in the chair.
"Vinely. I need to talk to you," said the same man. Jasper rushed into the
room and cried with his mother as Derek was walking towards the kitchen.
Police men and women flew everywhere like bees. Derek sat down at a kitchen
chair. So did the police officer about to question him.
"Alright, Vinely. Time to put your badge to the test. You were the one here.
You met the Greenen's before this happened. You have the insight and the
evidence," the officer gestured towards a few baggies on the table.
"Pennywise, I don't have the insight. I haven't even met Mr. Greenen before
all this happened."
"Vinely, stop that. You're a man, for Christ's sake. Just evaluate the
evidence. You're the key to finding out who killed this little girl. Put your own
inhibitions behind and think of that baby who'll never have the chance to
live life!" Derek, embarrassed that he was thinking of something other than
the child, dropped his eyes to the table.
"There's a blood soaked book of matches." Derek toyed with one of the
baggies. "Diego, the younger one, had incense. It looked like it was burning
for a while." Derek moved to the next baggy. A beer can lay inside. A few
droplets splattered the side of the bag.
"There was only a few drops of beer left on the rim of the can. If it was
sitting there for a long time, it would have evaporated. The only one who
drinks in this house is Bob Greenen.
"Next, we have a Harvard sweater. As Miranda was bragging about
when I first arrived, Jasper went to Harvard.
"Although there's no evidence that Miranda had anything to do with it,
she did have motive. But so did Bob, Diego and Jasper. Miranda had to face to
everyone about her affair with Barry Calcove, who is dead himself. She had
to live day in and day out from the verbal abuse from Bob. The Greenen
kids all hinted at that when they were interviewed. Jasper and Alice both
showed signs of grief, but Diego took it all in stride.
"But what motive could Diego have? Bob has the most obvious motive."
By now, Derek was pacing around the kitchen with his hands clasped behind
him. "Bob was never really a part of his biological children's lives. He doesn't
work. He lives off his great Uncle Earl's fortune. But why would he want to
kill his wife's daughter? Because baby's take up time and money. His Uncle's
money was running out, so he sent Miranda back to work. But what happened
with the baby? He had to care for her. Bob didn't like that much, did he? From
her medical records, we can see that she is slightly malnurished and had
frequent colds.
"That leads us to why Jasper came home. Miranda said that he quit his job
to spend some time with his family. According to Jasper, Miranda had begged
him to come home to help with his half sister. As I saw when I first met Jasper,
he's not the kind of person to turn his back on anyone. It's possible, though, that
he could have snapped. Why would a 24 year old man want to take care of his
half sister? He has a life. That is, until the baby came along." Pennywise and
the other police officers were all staring at Derek. Some were taking notes.
There was no question now how Derek had passed the test. Derek sat down
again. He looked at Pennywise.
"It seems everyone has a motive except for Diego and Alice," Pennywise
summerised.
"That is where you are wrong. Alice is the only one without a motive. Jasper
himself told me that Diego didn't have very good people skills. You know what
happens when there's a new baby in the family: people visit. Jasper also let it
slip that they usually had to force Diego to talk to people. Force. No 17 year old
likes to be forced. If the problem was gone, then the forcing would be gone.
Who cares that the problem was an innocent baby?"
"Good work, Derek," Pennywise said seriously. "But now it's the matter of
finding out who exactly did it."


2 years and 7 months later.
"Mr. Motley-Vinely, I can't figure this cold case out! The evidence is here, the
motives are here, but who did it? The mother, the father, the two brothers or the
sister?"
"Patience, Joe, patience. I've been going over this for almost 3 years. It was
my first real case, and it is now your first real case. I couldn't solve it, either. I
still can't. Think back to your childhood. You have a similar backround." Derek
leaned over Joe, who was sitting in an office chair in Ronwich, Connecticut.
"Well, from the transcripts, you immediatly wrote off Alice. You can't write
anyone off, even if they are children. They were all capable of doing the crime.
I remember when my little sister was born, I was very jealous of her. I was used
to all the attention, but she came and took that all away. Maybe that's how Alice
was feeling. I think we should talk to Alice. She's 11, now, isn't she?"
"Yes. I think that's a good idea." Derek called his assistant in and ordered
her to set up a meeting at the police station with the little girl and her mother.


4 days later.
Derek entered the room where the sobbing Alice and her mother were in.
Miranda was trying to calm her only daughter, but Alice would not calm down.
"Mrs. Greenen -"
"Miss Karol, please," Miranda corrected.
"Miss Karol, can I please talk to you in the hall?" Miranda nodded and gave
her daughter one last pat on the back and rose, gliding swiftly across the room,
exiting into the hallway.
"Miss Karol, thank you for coming -" Derek started, but never finished his
sentence. At that moment, Alice burst through the doors.
"I DID IT! I KILLED MY SISTER!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, tears
pouring from her squinted eyes. "I-I'm sorry, mommy! I know you told me not to
tell, but - but I had to!" she gulped for air. Miranda stood stock still, her mouth
slightly opened.
Joe was at the end of the hall, watching the scene. He was close enough to
read Derek's lips. Derek had muttered, "Good work."

His head bowed, Derek ushered Miranda and Alice back into the room.

Miranda sat down and ignored her whimpering daughter, who was looking at her

through tearful eyes.

"Now, Alice, do you realize what you just said?" questioned Derek, who

moved to push play on the take recorder.

"Yes," she muttered. "I did it."

"Why?"

"B-Because. She got all the attention. People came to see her. She got all the

toys," Alice's eyes were bleak. Tears still fell, but silently now. She hiccuped

occasionally.

"Miss Karol, did you know about this?" Derek turned to Miranda. She took her

time answering. Her mouth was opened, ready to speak. She looked down at her

hands. They seemed to have a mind of their own. They were playing with

whatever they could.

"Yes, Detective, I did know," she looked Derek in the eyes. "But I didn't say

anything because I didn't want to lose another daughter."

"I see. I know how it is to love a child so much you'd do anything for her."

Derek thought about the little girl he had at home that came just 6 months ago.

Snapping out of it, he said, "You'll be charged as an accessory to murder. Don't

worry, though," he said to Miranda's intake in breath. "She'll be charged as a

minor. The punishment shouldn't extend past her 18th birthday."
__________________
And suddenly I become a part of your past
I'm becoming the part that don't last
I'm losing you and its effortless
Without a sound we lose sight of the ground
In the throw around
Never thought that you wanted to bring it down
I won't let it go down till we torch it ourselves
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