Writer's Blog: Issue 2
This week, read a fantastic dual perspective narrative written by Year 11 student Trinity Allen. The narrative tells the same story from two different perspectives, which is a great way to create suspense and intrigue!
- Mrs Jessica McCarthy
Waterlogged Crime by Trinity Allen
Charlie’s point of view
Water fell in thick heavy sheets, driving all signs of life indoors. Charlie rested his head against the window of his taxi as his final passenger raced through the torrent outside. He alone remained on the streets, hidden amongst towering buildings that seemed to stretch towards the dark clouds overhead. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his unshaven face as he surveyed the flood of old takeaway coffee cups and fast food wrappers beside him. He had been working more night shifts lately and he knew that the pull of caffeine would only grow stronger as the night progressed. However, the heavy rain bought a lull in taxi demand. Instead, Charlie settled in his chair, the unrelentless drum of the rain comforting and alluring him into sleep.
It wasn’t until the darkened street became awash in red and blue lights that he awoke. Charlie blinked blearily and clumsily triggered the windshield wipers to peer out onto the dismal road. A split second later, a brown pick-up truck roared down the street, quickly pursued by four sleek police cars. Charlie was still rubbing his eyes when a sudden thud shook his car. He frantically looked out the shotgun window only to be greeted by a sodden grin. The door was wrenched open as the figure slipped inside, weighed down by a coarse calico bag. Charlie looked at the man as he regained some form of composure—as much as he could while still being half asleep and surrounded by a moat of rubbish.
“ W-Where can I take you sir?” Charlie stuttered, fastening his seatbelt. He shivered at the answering grin’s resemblance to the Cheshire Cat.
In a fatal swoop, the man pulled a wad of cash out of the bag. “Take me to the other side of town. Ken’s Bookshop.” He paused for a second. “The name’s Jas by the way.”
Charlie only stared with his mouth agape, his chubby fingers gripping the wad of money tightly. With a quick snap, his mouth was shut and he gave Jas a firm nod as he peeled the car off the curb.
“Charlie.” He stated.
If only he knew what was to come.
Jas’ point of view
Jas’ Saturday night was not going to plan.
It wasn’t his fault he accidently robbed a bank. After all, accidents do happen. If you were suddenly pulled into a bank robbery that was not your design, what’s left to do other than play along? He needed the cash anyway.
After the gang he infiltrated realised he was an outsider, he took off, almost giddy as he snagged a bag stuffed full of cash. He watched as the gang’s worn, obviously outdated pick-up truck was chased by several police cars and silently thanked the Gods for the torrential rain that cleared the streets. He was granted with the perfect cover to slip into a nearby cab.
After a quick exchange of cash and his signature grin, he was speeding off in the opposite direction.
That was, of course, until they were stopped by a straying police car.
His driver looked at him then at the bag of money, his face slowly draining of colour. The sharp rap of fingers on the windscreen startled him, causing him to slowly wind down the window with a single gulp. Jasper met the eyes of the officer.
“ Wha—er hol’ up ofisher?” He slurred, turning his gaze unfocused with a lopsided smile. The officer’s lip curled slightly before turning his attention to the driver.
“Name and licence please.”
Jas watched as Charlie carefully pulled his wallet out of his pocket with shaking hands. For the second time that day, Jas thanked the Gods for the churning weather that resulted in low visibility. With a huff, the officer glanced at him once more before waving dismissively.
“Drive safely.” He said, his tone disinterested.
Charlie nodded nervously and pulled back onto the street.
A few blocks down the road, Jas laughed, swatting Charlie on the back. “Way to go man! You totally fooled him!”
Charlie looked over at him with his own grin. He quickly turned back to the road, swerving just in time to narrowly miss a head on collision with a certain truck. They spiralled, skidding down the rain-slicked bitumen. Jas leapt from the car as it ploughed straight into Ken’s bookshop.
With a groan, he pulled himself from the concrete, his head pounding like a waterfall.
“Charlie,” he muttered, taking a staggering step towards the crushed car.
Jas froze as cool metal brushed against the back of his head.
His eyes searched for the truck, shivering as he noticed all the doors were open and no one was inside.
There was a resonating click.
The rain only poured louder.