fiction
Mystery, crime, murder, unsolved cases. Contribute your own tales of crime to Criminal.
INFATUATED DIARIES
¨L-O-V-E is not just a word, love is more than caring or being loyal or honest to your significant other. Its about waking up everyday happy to see the same face and live with that person and take care of that person for weakness or health¨.
By Essence Ventura5 years ago in Criminal
Young, East-African Girl
I stared at him as he laid there with his eyes wide open. Angry, abandoned, and hurt that someone he loves so much took a gun and put a bullet through his skull. Shouldn’t I feel some kind remorse? I mean after all I did just kill human being. A man that was only my lover; the husband of my sister but also my employer. When he was kind he was extremely kind, generous, I dare to even say loving. But when you mess with the man’s money the kind Muslim man disappeared. He turned into a monster like you have never seen. He would tell me “I drink the blood of those who steal from me”. Often times I would try to fight back the urge from just laughing. I mean come on, what a drama queen right? He watched too many American films I tell you. The fragility of a rich middle eastern man’s ego. "Uff ya rebbel alemin forgive me but it had to be done". I did my sister, his daughters, and his other women a favor. Men like him, men that pray to Allah Five times a day; wearing their zebiba on their forehead like a batch of honor; while simultaneously prostituting women in secret and taking all the money for themselves. Well that’s beyond "HARAM" (forbidden)!
By Tarik Bein 5 years ago in Criminal
The One Who Follows Snippet
In the midst of this drama, came one of life’s pivotal moments. A few months into living at the loft with similar or exceedingly wild stories that I will spare you the details of, I realized I was tired of being dead broke. Since I declined the internship at McLaren, I had taken up three part-time jobs. One as a cashier/busboy/waiter/janitor at a walk-in fast food restaurant called Wahoo’s. I was paid minimum wage, and whatever tips were made were to be put into a collective jar for the week and dispersed equally to all the staff, which I hated because I was a charming little devil and the tips I made in a week would have been worth my while. I hated that job. I had greatness in me, don’t you know, and I felt too good to be waiting on people hand and foot and cleaning dirty bathrooms. The second part-time job I got was much better (for the time being) and more lucrative, I was an employee in fashion retail at Lacoste. I had a great group of co-workers and was paid a whole $11/hour. Big cash ting, you know? But that was like a supernova, burn bright die young, as management closed that location within ten weeks of me joining the team, because of poor sales performance from the year before (and by poor performance I mean a 2% drop instead of a 25% increase, the impossible mark they had been shooting for, while the city of Philadelphia had the façade of the store under construction for the last fourteen months). They had given us all one week’s notice. Yay. Back to serving up bowls of “Are your taste buds satisfied with the $8 quality food you are eating, or would you like me to take it back to the kitchen a fifth time?” I was getting really frustrated. I was looking for jobs, getting an interview here and there but getting nothing. Some said I was overqualified and that they were only looking to give the position to those with no prior work experience and/or no college education. I had also been working on building a business, which just so happened to fall into the energy industry, and research and development is quite expensive if I am putting it lightly.
By Nico DeGrange5 years ago in Criminal
Lucky-winners Luncheon: Leprechaun Logistics Episode 1
I slumped down onto my trashy old couch. It was time I pretended to pay some bills. I had a system. I checked my balance, subtracted food and rent, then the rest went to whichever past due bill seemed most urgent.
By L.P. Masters5 years ago in Criminal
Love that Dies
Jim was someone that some called meek even though deep down inside his soul he was a strong willed young man in his twenties. He was still finding himself in the world, uncertain of his worth, filled with self doubt while being above average in many respects. Jim had his problems like anyone else. He struggled with acceptance in the world, mostly because he struggled to accept himself, as many of us are guilty of doing. Jim was also unsure of his sexuality and had begun a few years ago to believe that he might be gay, even though he never put a label on his sexuality the way the world around him insisted on doing. Jim’s worst day came quite out of the blue.
By Morton Jerry5 years ago in Criminal
The Cursed Film. Top Story - March 2021.
The distributor asked me how I wanted the funds to be forwarded. I wanted a check. Not only did I want a check I wanted to walk into their offices in New York, meet with someone, anyone, the janitor, and be handed a live check and have my hand shaken. Then I’d walk down to the nearest bank branch and deposit that thing. I wanted to watch the teller’s eyes try not to bug as he or she punched in the numbers; three, two, four, four, three, zero, nine, point, eight six.
By Michael Z. Atrata5 years ago in Criminal
[Untitled]
02.05.2011 My name is Clyde Michaels. I am 27 years old and from Detroit. I am in a small, square-shaped room. I have no idea where I am. Every single wall, including the ceiling and floor, is a mirror. There are no doors. There are no windows. Just my own reflection. Everywhere. I can see a digital clock on the ceiling. It also has the date, and shows if it is AM or PM. I am chained to the wall, but I can move around the room for the most part. I am not sure how long I have been here. I am given a water bottle and some bread every day. It's here when I wake up. Not much food, not much water. Bread is stale and the water tastes funny. I have to ration everything out otherwise I spend the rest of the day hungry and thirsty. I relieve myself in a corner. There is only hay, at least it's changed out often. I can't manage to stay awake long enough to see who is entering and how. All I can to do is look at the clock, look at myself, or write in this little black book.
By Francois Celestin5 years ago in Criminal
The Consequences of Curiosity
Another overdose. Was it the fourth or fifth this week? His crew was prompt, as expected. They cleaned up the mess and brought families back together. That was his division. his calling. His only opportunity. Elijah hoisted the head and his partner, the feet. The soiled zippered bag felt lighter than the last they dealt with. He was maybe in his late twenties, thin boned, sunken face and a clear user of heavy narcotics. For a moment Elijah thought he recognized the man from years ago, from his High School.
By Kendra Post5 years ago in Criminal
