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Corey's Revenge


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Hey guys, my exams are next week but we are doing heaps of study in class so I have limited things to study for so I thought I'd be nice and give you some more of my story. This will probably be the last update until my exams finish, which is a week from next week, but you never know. Thank you for all you wonderful comments, they mean so much to me. After this chapter I only have one or two more written so I will have to think about what will happen next. If you guys have any ideas I would be glad to hear them, just post them here.

Chapter Four:

A week passed and they hadn’t heard of anything by Corey. In a way that was good but it was also bad because it meant that they weren’t any closer to catching him.

One morning when Jack and Martha woke up they couldn’t be bothered making breakfast, so Jack suggested that he go down to the Diner and buy something.

He headed down and bought bacon and eggs, their favourite. Colleen served him and rabbited on for a whole five minutes about Corey and how scary it was that he had returned, and how was poor Martha coping and shouldn’t he be a good husband getting back to her so she wouldn’t be afraid until Irene told the stupid woman to shut up and get back to work.

Ten minutes later (he had been delayed a while because of the idiot Colleen) he arrived home.

“Martha.” He called cheerily. “The food’s here.” He saw Martha and let out a gasp. She was sprawled out on the floor, eyes closed, and worst of all, a pool of blood surrounding her head.

“Martha!” he cried. He hurried to her side and dropped to the ground. He could hear her breathing, thank heavens, but it was very shallow. He grabbed the phone and dialled triple zero.

“Hi, I came home and my wife’s unconscious on the ground with blood around her. I don’t know what happened.” He said in a panicky voice. The lady on the other side assured him that the ambulance was on its way, to stay as calm as possible and not to move Martha.

As Jack waited, images flitted through his mind. He stared at his wife in front of him, looking so pale. He gently stroked her hair and whispered, “Please Martha, hang in there, I can’t lose you.”

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