I turned around only to catch a glimpse of the blade as it went straight into the chest of that poor reporter. I immediately froze. Not knowing what to do until the murderer himself turned around and spotted me, it was then that I noticed the small scar on his forehead and I wondered how it got there? His eyes narrowed down to mine inspecting me to see if I had witnessed what he had just done. He must of known by the look on my face because I was never good at hiding my emotions. This is part of what I have written in my story. You probably think it is dark or gloomy but you don’t know the whole story yet. At the saying goes don’t judge a book by its cover.

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