TMA 02 Amanda Steel W5825498
Part 1 Creative
Chapter Four
I could see the faint outline of a wall at either side of me and the sound of rats scuttling
around nearby, as my vision adjusted, which led me to assume I was in an alley somewhere.
That explained the limited amount of light. I jumped at the sound of footsteps before the
figure of a long-haired woman raced past me while my eyes took in clearer images of my
surroundings. Her breath sounded like an untrained runner on the last mile of a marathon with
only one person behind her, not wanting to be last. A few seconds later, another person
rushed past, a man. His footsteps were louder and his breathing deeper, although less
panicked than the woman’s.
“Fucking bitch,” he muttered.
I felt like I had heard the voice before.
“Please,” she said.
My focus improved, and I was able to see we were standing at the back of a building
which loomed over us. The woman hit her fists against the back door, but he grabbed her by
the hair. I spotted a glint of metal and guessed it came from a knife.
“No, no,” she begged.
“You deserve this,” he hissed into her ear.
I saw the glint from the knife again as he reached his hand around her throat. There was
screaming, mine, hers? I’m not sure. Maybe both of us were screaming. I closed my eyes, as I
would if I was watching a horror movie.
“Sarah, Sarah,” a familiar voice called my name.
1
, TMA 02 Amanda Steel W5825498
I opened my eyes and found myself in Steve’s house. The noodles on his fork dropped off
onto the coffee table, sending splatters of noodle juice onto the glass as if to frame them.
“What? I…”
“You just appeared here, screaming as I was eating my tea,” he said, making the previous
scene seem like it happened during some over-realistic nightmare.
“I was in an alley,” I said, feeling like I might be crazy.
When I caught Steve up on everything that had happened, he responded in his usual way.
“You’ve had a busy day.”
I clenched and unclenched my fists, wondering if I could will my hand into physical form
for just long enough to slap him. Why did he have to make light of the situation?. I might
have tried to throw his precious plasma TV across the room, but it weighed much more than
the plate at the restaurant, and I hadn’t meant to throw that.
“What does it mean?” I asked him.
“Sometimes memories get scrambled during the crossing over from life to death,” he said.
His explanation made sense of the love triangle with Paul, Emma and me.
“I wouldn’t want to remember that and I’d be happy for the knowledge to become re-
scrambled. I never witnessed someone murdered in an alley though. I know my memories are
hazy, but I’m sure about that.”
“I have a theory,” Steve said. He reached for one of his books.
The page he showed me suggested victims of violent crimes form a connection to their
killers.
“That woman wasn’t me though, it was dark, but her hair wasn’t red like mine. It was deep
brown, maybe. Or black.”
“She might be his next victim,” Steve suggested.
2
Part 1 Creative
Chapter Four
I could see the faint outline of a wall at either side of me and the sound of rats scuttling
around nearby, as my vision adjusted, which led me to assume I was in an alley somewhere.
That explained the limited amount of light. I jumped at the sound of footsteps before the
figure of a long-haired woman raced past me while my eyes took in clearer images of my
surroundings. Her breath sounded like an untrained runner on the last mile of a marathon with
only one person behind her, not wanting to be last. A few seconds later, another person
rushed past, a man. His footsteps were louder and his breathing deeper, although less
panicked than the woman’s.
“Fucking bitch,” he muttered.
I felt like I had heard the voice before.
“Please,” she said.
My focus improved, and I was able to see we were standing at the back of a building
which loomed over us. The woman hit her fists against the back door, but he grabbed her by
the hair. I spotted a glint of metal and guessed it came from a knife.
“No, no,” she begged.
“You deserve this,” he hissed into her ear.
I saw the glint from the knife again as he reached his hand around her throat. There was
screaming, mine, hers? I’m not sure. Maybe both of us were screaming. I closed my eyes, as I
would if I was watching a horror movie.
“Sarah, Sarah,” a familiar voice called my name.
1
, TMA 02 Amanda Steel W5825498
I opened my eyes and found myself in Steve’s house. The noodles on his fork dropped off
onto the coffee table, sending splatters of noodle juice onto the glass as if to frame them.
“What? I…”
“You just appeared here, screaming as I was eating my tea,” he said, making the previous
scene seem like it happened during some over-realistic nightmare.
“I was in an alley,” I said, feeling like I might be crazy.
When I caught Steve up on everything that had happened, he responded in his usual way.
“You’ve had a busy day.”
I clenched and unclenched my fists, wondering if I could will my hand into physical form
for just long enough to slap him. Why did he have to make light of the situation?. I might
have tried to throw his precious plasma TV across the room, but it weighed much more than
the plate at the restaurant, and I hadn’t meant to throw that.
“What does it mean?” I asked him.
“Sometimes memories get scrambled during the crossing over from life to death,” he said.
His explanation made sense of the love triangle with Paul, Emma and me.
“I wouldn’t want to remember that and I’d be happy for the knowledge to become re-
scrambled. I never witnessed someone murdered in an alley though. I know my memories are
hazy, but I’m sure about that.”
“I have a theory,” Steve said. He reached for one of his books.
The page he showed me suggested victims of violent crimes form a connection to their
killers.
“That woman wasn’t me though, it was dark, but her hair wasn’t red like mine. It was deep
brown, maybe. Or black.”
“She might be his next victim,” Steve suggested.
2
