This is a story I wrote in high school and I saw it on a disc and decided to put it on here. Let me know if you like it.

Dog on a Leash

By Daniel Peeples

In a small town covered in hills, lies what was once the home of John and Mary Monroe. The house is now unoccupied and void of life. Wild shrubs run freely on its white walls and wooden porch swing. Residents occasionally ride by to stare through the dust covered windows and imagine the appalling scene that occurred the night John died.
It happened several hours before daybreak. Mary woke up to the sound of a horrifying cry. She saw a kitchen knife placed in her fist. It was covered in blood and jabbing into her husband’s chest. She slammed the long metal blade through his neck and into the wall behind him. Shocked and terrified, she pried her fingers from the handle. Warm blood flooded the pale carpet and surrounded Mary’s feet. After a few jerks, John’s body remained motionless. Light from the fireplace flickered against Mary’s large round eyes. Her jaw had dropped from her face as she realized what had happened.
Suffering from a condition that causes sleep walking had left Mary in very unique situations. In her sleep she had gone for walks, cooked meals, and carried out tasks that would normally take a rather focused mind. It was never really a concern for her and her family, though, because her night activity would never happen more often than once every month. Even when she did sleep walk, she would usually just watch television. This time was not like the others. This time she killed her husband.
Tears began to run down her face as she dashed toward the phone. She dialed nine-one-one, but then hesitated. Waking from her slumber, reality grew. She slowly put the receiver back on the phone. “I killed my husband! I’m guilty of murder!” she screamed.
The police would be arriving soon and she knew she didn’t have any time. She had to leave the scene. Mary grabbed her keys and ran through the door. Her bare feet scampered across the frosted grass until she jumped into her car. The tires squealed as the car dashed out of the carport and into the fog.
A few hours later the sun began to rise and Mary had found herself in a highly wooded area outside of a small unfamiliar town. She pulled her car into and opening in the trees and turned the engine off. With one last remorseful sob, she grabbed a pair of old sandals from the trunk of her car and headed off into the small forest.
Mary spotted a small abandoned play area. Completed with a tree house, a ladder and a wooden swing, she knew she had found a haven . She climbed the ladder and crawled inside. “This will make a nice place to take a nap,” she thought as she huddled her body in the corner. She didn’t sleep. She couldn’t. Images of her dead husband filled her head. The entire day was spent thinking. Not only did she feel a deep sense of remorse for the death of her husband, she also planned what to do. If someone saw her, she could be charged for murder. “I can’t live like this! I have plenty of people who know I sleep walk. Doctors, friends and relatives will support me!” she shouted in her head. “I know what I’m gonna do. I’ll tell the police the whole story, and I’ll be free! There’s no way they won’t believe me! I don’t have any motive for killing my husband!” Daylight had come and gone, but Mary remained huddled in the corner. Darkness was falling and she finally began to sleep.
The next day Mary woke up feeling almost relieved. Bright sunshine filled the air, and the moist air of the morning felt relaxing against her skin. She made her way to the car and drove onto the gravel road. An elderly woman was walking her dog when she noticed Mary driving out of the woods. The curious old lady stopped in her tracks as her dog pulled its leash. Mary drove up beside her and rolled down her window. “Excuse me,” she shouted to the gray-haired figure. “I’m not from around here. Can you tell me where the police station is?”
The dog pulled harder in an attempt to free itself. The dark cord attached to its neck tightened. This beautiful creature, covered in pale wavy hair suddenly tried to bark. Only a few squawks escaped from its lungs as it began to choke itself. “You stupid dog! The lady shouted as she violently loosened the collar.
Mary stared into the dog’s face, intrigued by its desperate attempt to be free. “I know how you feel,” she whispered to the dog.
“It’s about two miles from here. Keep going straight until you see a large rotting oak tree,” the old woman said as she recovered from the incident. “Turn right and you’ll be there in no time.”
Mary forced herself to grin and shouted, “Thank you!” She drove for a few minutes, following the instructions until she saw a line of police cars resting outside of a rectangular building. A small crowd was spread throughout the gray sidewalks and busy streets. “Here I go!” she nervously said, as she climbed out of the leather car seat. She walked past a barbershop and up to the glass door of the police station. Her body froze and her soul jumped out of her skin. Staring down at a small, red vending machine, she couldn’t believe what she saw; a stack of newspapers with her picture on the front pages. Above the black and white photos, in bold black letters, read the words, “Wanted for Murder.” She grabbed the shoulders of a young boy who was standing nearby and howled “Give me a quarter!” The boy, shocked, reached in his pocket and threw out three quarters and a nickel. Mary clutched a quarter in her hand and shoved the metal piece into the machine. She snatched all of the papers and threw them into a garbage pail. Her golden wavy hair danced as she plunged toward her getaway car.
About an hour later Richard Jackson, a police officer, received a phone call from a frantic old woman. “I saw this woman in the paper driving out of the woods over here!” she proclaimed with concern. “I even talked to her!”
Richard was skeptical of the lead but thanked the woman. “We’ll come check it out.” He put down the phone and decided to have a look for himself. When he drove to the site, he was astonished to find the car described by the officials working on the John Monroe Case. He walked further into the woods. The surrounding trees created dark shadows on his brightly lit face. Leaves crunched as he walked deeper into the sunlit area. He suddenly paused and looked up. Richard took hold of his walkie-talkie and gently spoke. “I’m gonna need the CSI. I found Mary Monroe.”
Her lifeless corpse appeared to float in the sky. The vivid greens and browns of trees surrounded her. Mary’s pale, thin legs dangled from her loosely fitted night clothes. The thin rope that once held the tree house swing was tied to a large branch. On the bottom of the rope, her neck was strangled. Her chin raced upward, and her eyes were wide open.