October 31, 2012 a brutal death from an unknown killer puts the state of New York in chaos. It was a cool crisp autumn’s afternoon when Amber was taking a leisurely walk down by the harbour. With the colorful leaves and the occasional wedding reception along the waterfront, it made the walk a relaxing time to ease her mind. She had just finished a photo shoot for New York’s fashion magazine and was on her way back home to see her little baby girl. She had just given birth to her little girl Cyarra two years earlier and had her nanny watch after her until her resignation notice for her job got looked at.
Amber was one of New York’s hottest models with her luscious blonde hair, icy blue eyes, silky smooth legs, and her naughty but angelic face. Being the top model for the past 5 years running, Amber had only just started her career. She had just finished school when the fashion industry picked her up while working as a model for a local Sears outlet. Only being 21 at the time, Amber pursued this as her future career and is now New York’s best model.
Although Amber was such a big person in New York, she still had many people that opposed her. She has had, on 3 different occasions, people try to kill her while on her way home. For some reason people they couldn’t stand her success. While some people were seeing the end of their job and getting laid off, Amber was just at the beginning stages of her career, and people couldn’t stand it.
As Amber walked up her front steps to her house on the top of the hill on Orchard Street, she noticed something on the door. There was note on it. As she read it, it said “Sincerest regards on your loss… Signed, Anonymous.” Baffled and confused, Amber crumpled up the paper and proceeded to go inside. As she enters, there is a deadly silence to the house. She walks around, constantly calling for Cyarra. She makes her way up to the second floor only to find there is still no one there. On the third floor she finds something; another note. This note not written in pen or pencil though, this time it’s written in a red substance. “No. It can’t be” she keeps repeating in her head. She touches it with her finger and proceeds to smell it. She lets out a blood curdling scream as she read the bloody note. It says “Life is just a slow way to die, everybody dies in the end. Would you give your life for the life of your own daughter? If so be at the Statue of Liberty by midnight tonight, ALONE. If you don’t show, your daughter dies; and if anybody comes with you, your daughter dies.”
The blood drains from her face as she turns an eerie pale. She turns to the nearest chair to sit down before she collapses. Thoughts flying through her mind as she thinks about the note; “Is this for real? Am I dreaming? Whose blood is this?” Over and over again, the thoughts going through her mind won’t stop. When she finally gets the will to stand up, she goes to turn on some lights; the powers out. Amber than continues down to the basement to check the power box, down the cold cement stairs she goes. She finally gets to the power box and as she flicks the switch all the lights come on. With a sense of relief she turns around. Another blood curdling scream comes out of her mouth. The blood on the note was from the nanny. Laying there dead on the floor in a pool of her own blood lay the nanny. She had been shot twice in the chest and once in the head, attached to her bloody body is another note. As she reads it to herself the very life is pulled out from her, as it reads “Now you know we’re not joking. Will this be you or your daughter tonight? Time's running out.”
As midnight dawns the thought is still on her mind. She walks down the cold dark street as the moon hides behind a cloud, like her heart hides from her shaking body. The statue jumps out from the darkness as she lets out a breathless whimper. She sees Cyarra standing there, but a silhouette of a man stands behind her. “The time has come, the time to choose, whose it going to be?” the man in the darkness asks in a low voice. “Spare her life, she has yet to live, take me instead.” Amber says in a depressive voice. “So be it.” The man says as he pulls out a pistol from his jacket. As a tear streams down Ambers face she looks at her daughter one last time. So with one last glance she looks at the man and asks him one simple question; “Can I say one last thing before you kill me?” “Make it quick.” The man replies. So with a soft sad voice she says “Life itself can be full of bumps. You will have to give up things you care about to move on. To live without love is to live without a heart, and to live without a heart is not living at all. My daughter is my love, my life. I can’t live without her. The light will come to everyone someday but until then you must love to live. I have lived and I have loved living, my daughter has not lived and she has not experienced love. So I will give my life for her to live a life of love. Tell her I love her.” Before the man is able to pull the trigger, Amber pulls out a nine from her side and shoots the man in the shoulder. But from the darkness emerges another figure with a pistol pointed at Amber, and before Amber is able to let off a shot, the moon comes out from behind the clouds and lights this darkened city. For one’s end is another’s beginning.
October 31, 2012 a brutal death from an unknown killer puts the state of New York in chaos. As the cops are frantically trying to find this killer and figure out his reasoning, Cyarra is on her way to go live with her grieving Aunt in East Vancouver, Canada. The front page of the news papers state “Death of an Angel: A mother’s life for her daughters love.”
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