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Originally titled \"The Mod Lord\" but I hate that title, so as of right now it is \"Untitled\"
This was for English class (who would have guessed!) ______________
?Hello ?mam, my name is Sander, and I am with the Johnson Insurance agency of New York. I am here to see if you have considered your current insurance policy lately. What do you think makes your current policy good? The low cost? The high return? The low deductible? The fact that you can borrow against it? Well, if any of those don?t fit your current policy, then maybe you should consider Johnson Insurance.? Suddenly the door slammed shut, inches away from hitting Sander in the face. ?Well she wasn?t terribly pleasant,? muttered Sander. He moved on to the next house.
Sander was a door-to-door insurance sales man in Queens. It didn?t pay much, but it was enough to keep him happy. Living in a small apartment in the city, Sander was an average bachelor. Often times, he would think back to his former life in England. Ah, the good times he had! But whenever he thought about England, he invariably got to thinking about why he had to abruptly leave his life and family, and come to America. No matter how hard he tried, he would always end up thinking about England.
That evening, when Sander arrived home, he started his usual routine. Turn on the TV, plop down onto the couch, and watch the five o?clock news.
?Tonight on news 5: a man fled from England, now Sander Sassen is on the US most wanted list. Also tonight, we have new fashion tips for?? the TV blaired. Sander watched with intensity. Could it be? How close could they be to finding him? His heart pounded. He watched the headline story and to his dismay, it was him they were after.
?Hello? when is the next train I can catch to Chicago?? 6:12?? Thank you.? Sander started packing the second the phone was back on the hook. A moment later, he was heading out the door with most of his clothes and a wad of cash he had saved from his days helping out the mob.
The train ride was dull. Sander couldn?t sleep despite the fact that he hadn?t gotten any sleep in the last 19 hours. When he got off of the train, he was immediately greeted by 2 stony-faced government officials carrying rifles. He was very suddenly and violently taken away and tossed into a dank and musty-smelling cell. He quickly became accustomed to the way of life in a jail. It was much like the mob that he used to be a part of. Hearing stories of abuse, drugs, and murder, he was forced to re-live his own devastating story.
He remembered; the night was quiet. The cool summer-evening air giving a slight breeze. Sander was sleuthing towards the house like a cat stalking its prey. He saw his target: a seemingly innocent young woman, sitting in a recliner, reading a novel. She had to be stopped. If she lived, they would have the witness they needed to put Carter, the mob lord, away for life with no chance to escape. Silenced Ruger in hand, he carefully entered the house through the back door, making sure not to make a noise. Sanders? heart was beating like a drum, and so loudly that he figured he may not be able to get close before she heard his heart pounding. He finally entered the room she was in, and had his pistol cocked. She noticed him, and gasped. She knew immediately why he was there, there would be no other reason, but she asked him anyway, ?Is? is th-this about that? mob lord guy??
Sander didn?t reply. He simply closed his eyes, and fired. A few seconds later, his eyes still closed, he heard a hollow thud. He knew the bullet had hit its mark. Without looking at the woman?s corpse, which had fallen out of the chair, he turned around and left the house. Not once did he look back, but he could feel her soul tugging at his heart, screaming, crying, and eventually, laughing at what was to become of him. Knowing he could not stay in England, he was planning his new life in America before he reached his car, as they would figure out who killed her soon enough. The following morning he booked the next open flight to the United States, and packed up. He gave away most of his possessions, as it would be too conspicuous and costly to bring them with him.
Sitting in his jail cell, he plotted, planned, and schemed about how to get out of the prison, alive. He discovered that there was a gap between his cell and the next cell. Assuming that there had to be some sort of opening in-between the cells, he got a large poster and a small hammer, used to shape small rocks. Sander carved away a small bit of the wall every day, and covered it with the poster when someone came near. He would take the chunks or rock and sand left over from his excavating in his pockets every afternoon and drop it all in the courtyard.
Day upon day he did this, and after about a year of digging a hole in the wall pebble by pebble, Sander had finally broken through the four foot thick wall. His hammer had worn down to merely a nub. After preparing for the journey, he set off in the dead of night, using burning sticks to light his path through the wall. He followed the pipes and eventually ended up at the stream which flowed near the prison. Swimming had never felt so good to him as it did on that night. This time he would go to Australia. It was a place that he always wanted to visit, and it would get him away from the icy-cold winters of New York. This time he would do it right. ___________________________________
So... did you like it? I havent touched it in a year, so don't be harsh. I just found this on my computer and thought I'd share because I remeber being proud of it (well all but the ending...)
Last edited by Greg M. on Sat Feb 04, 2006 10:32 pm; edited 1 time in total
I like it but when it transision from him killing the lady ro being in USA jail kinda threw me the first time and i lost where i was but over all good.
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