Chapter 1 -

Chapter 1 -

A Chapter by CJ Barnard

Chapter 1

I can feel the rays of the sun warming up my cheek, slowly spreading to my lips and neck, I wonder why it always starts at your checks?

Is it because it is the softest tissue on your face, second your lips, seeing as though the rest, being the forehead and head, are just skeletal structure covered in skin, no soft tissue?

I will the moonlight to come back, but there is an incessive and irritating hand pushing away my hair from my face, and something or someone tugging on my fingers. I long to shoo them away like the irritating and annoying flies they are, but no words seem to fall from my mouth, not even a grunt or a moan, so I try by using my hands, but not even the one they seem so interested in, seems to have any will to move.

I can hear them talking, but their voices seem to be so far, very far, away, I can’t even make out what they are saying to one another, never mind what the one is addressing to me.

I will them to hear to me, I scream, but after a few chested screams, I realise no one has heard a thing. I will them to give me something, anything for the pain bursting through my neck and down my chest. Another part of my lower body feels like it is broke and on fire, but I can’t place the pain.

No one is listening to me as I scream and pull on them, as much as I try, it’s as though I am invisible. I’m living my worst nightmare, or someone is playing a very mean prank on me. Either way I don’t like it one bit.

I scream some more, but still they don’t hear me, I try kicking and moving and part of my body, willing of my muscles to move, even flinch, anything to get anyone’s attention, but all my efforts were in vain.

All of a sudden, I am standing up straight, I’m behind some guy who is bent over something. I don’t know how I got up, or who helped me up, but my legs are a little wobbly and my head feels like it is about to split in two from the pain. I walk over, more like wobbled, to the man in front of me to ask him how I got here and who helped me up and if he has something for the enormous amount of pain I am in, that’s when I see it.

First just a shoe, I follow it to find the shoe is on a foot and the foot attached to a body, which has a face, but the face is twisted, and hair as golden as mine covers the face.

The man hovering over the body, bends to check more things, and then he removes the hair from the face of the women laying half in the water, and I look in to the painfully screaming face that is my own.

 

AVIK GREEN

At two in the morning your average person would be sound asleep in their beds, but that was not the case for Avik Green. Flash backs of the last assignment he was sent on still haunted him. Now at two in the morning he was pounding his fists on the punching bag hanging from the ceiling of his studio apartment, trying to drown out the flashing images, which seemed to be as loud as gun shots, racing through his mind.

He wore no gloves to protect his knuckles, instead he had just taped them, tight enough to prevent the skin from bursting open. Fists drawn up to his face as he was taught when he was younger and thought his career would be as a professional boxer, when he was still innocent to all the evils the world could throw at one person. He swung his shot, hitting the spinning bag, which was also tapped around the middle, but with duct tape, to prevent it from splitting any further than it already has, each punch landed on the swinging and twisting bag, sending it flying in a backwards twirl, only to have it come sweeping back at him at an alarming speed. He hit it again, but this time he only chipped it. The ringing of his phone had drawn his attention away from the returning bag.

The bag returned faster than usual and with a force strong enough to put your average Joe on his arse. But as Avik had sufficient training as a boxer, his stance was of such that he just slid an inch backwards, the bag between his hands. Annoyed and still very much irritated Avik walked over to ringing distraction. The number of the precinct he was stationed at after his last assignment was flashing across his screen.

Drawing a deep breath, calming the rage still burning like a blazed fire after arson was added to it, inside of him, anger that no one could ever place, he was just born an angry person. Avik ran his hands through his hair, drawing another deep breath, he hit the green indicator and tried to sound as normal as the next person at two in the morning.




© 2019 CJ Barnard


Author's Note

CJ Barnard
Please leave comments on what you would expect to happen and what you think should be removed or added. Thank you

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Reviews

Oooh, off to a good start!

Let's see, what do I expect?
I think the detective is going to be called to the scene of death, where the blonde woman has departed from her body. Maybe in the next chapter she will interact with the detective. But maybe that was just a big hook at the beginning of a plain detective story, rather than a detective and ghost story.

What do I think should be removed or added?
I don't think anything needs to be added, there is enough here, not too much. For removing, well, I find the sunlight on the face thing a bit disorienting. Sunlight on the face seems so nice, then suddenly there is all this paralysis and pain. But maybe that was your intent? This is a matter of personal taste, not right or wrong.

I am definitely going to continue reading. This is very well written and grabbed my interest right away.

I will mention... I don't think incessive is a word. Incessant is.

Posted 5 Years Ago


CJ Barnard

5 Years Ago

Thank you so much for the review. I will make the word change! Lol.

In regards to the.. read more

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Added on June 22, 2019
Last Updated on June 22, 2019


Author

CJ Barnard
CJ Barnard

Bloemfontein, Free State, South Africa



About
I live in my own world insode my head. The silance I portray is not what goes on inside my mind. I can go days without uttering a word from my lips, the conversations i have in my own mind and the sto.. more..

Writing