Short Story for English Class -Small Section in Need of Critique, up for the job?

Finn

Member
This is not the beginning, nor the end. Somewhere in the middle. Is it good enough?

"My heart pounded quite hard in my chest as I gazed at the entrance. Violent screams and images spun rapidly in my head. For some reason, I was always nervous or simply overly excited before the hunt.

I stepped out the door and walked down the path to my garage. It was pitch black in the garage. As usual, it had a musky dusty stench that hung heavily in the air. I knew that basically everything except my car and the tarp covering my motorbike had a thick layer of dust over it.

I owned a simple silver four door Honda and a sport motorbike. As I am simply hunting tonight to study my victim, I will be using my motorbike.

It was hard to see it, so I stuck my hands out and blindly searched for it. I will love the day when I will be more organized I thought to myself as I felt one of my motorbike’s mirrors.

My hands maneuvered over to one of the handles of my motorbike and grabbed hold of it. With that, I mounted the motorbike and played with my keys to find the remote. At finding it, I jabbed my finger into one of the buttons to open the garage door and watched it as it slid open. I kicked the kick stand up and waddle out of the garage on the tips of my toes, moving the motorbike without the engine on.

Once near the side walk, I halted and just gazed at the road and sighed. I peeled the paintball mask off and placed it on the tank. My lips shuddered as the chilly air sunk deep into my skin cooling my core down. I could barely see the steam spiral into the air with each breath I exhaled.

Just seeing the steam, my cravings kicked in. Ugh, where are my cigarettes when I need them? Fuck I thought to myself as I patted my body down.

I found half a pack in one of my pockets of my sweater. “I swore I took them out of my sweater,” I mumbled as I pulled a cigarette out along with my lighter.

The cigarette dangled from my lips as I lit the lighter. My eyes analyzed the neighborhood for any witnesses as I waved the flame at the tip of the cigarette, lighting the tip up.

I inhaled a deep breath and released the carbon dioxide from my lungs out into the silent night. “I need to align the information…victims info,” I mouthed as I squeezed my eyes shut.

It was how it worked for me. I needed to lay it all out like a map on a table."

Thanks.
 
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