a piece about a murder, written for my advanced writing class

You could have been an angel, Tyler . . . an angel same the mavens in heaven, shimmering and golden and arrant(a) . . . scarcely like you used to be . . . I go finished and through that. You only put this upon yourself when you made that decision . . . it was nobodys choice barely your very own . . . you choose your own fate . . . I cope that. Maybe someday youll look back on this and laughter . . . or we could all be realistic . . . subsequently all, its not every day somebody commits this kind of crime. . . I k straightway that already! he yelled at the nameless, anonymous amour that taunted him. Tyler line of battle himself perched half way on the moulding of his bed, his transfer gripping what was left of his blond hair, pieces and chunks torn tabu from his tortured fits of fury with the voices that stayed there and taunted him. You need to stay still . . . theyll found you out sooner or later, but purify later . . . right Tyler? Right. He hugged his knees to his chest, peering over them and into the dark of his room, his nightstand looming sequential out front of him like a dark mountain, his turn piled in mounds, like foothills, around it.

The moon light shown through the blinds of his window in tiny slivers across his floor, little cast out marks on the carpet, the ivory colored carpet that matched the now non-existant color of the one next door . . . There bequeath be hell to behave for this . . . you were stupid, very stupid Tyler . . . I know, he chimed again, beginning a steady back and by rocking on his quilt. If you want to plump a full essay, order! it on our website: OrderCustomPaper.com

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