Sunday, October 18, 2009,
Chapter 5: Thoughts in a...pigeon roost
“Oh?” I stare in disbelief. I am horrified. Sure, I am a cold-blooded murderer who killed her own mother, but I do not live in what seems to be the most shabby and run down apartment in London.A train runs by, the ground shakes like an earthquake is happening.CRASH!I can hear a glass vase fall and break.“Screw this,” I say, kicking down the termite infested wooden door.“James Evans, hm?” I smile, licking my blood-stained dagger.
8:58 PM