Curosity Killed The Cat

Hi again,
I wrote this story a while ago and I'm hoping to start it up again maybe just update it a little each day to keep my creative juices flowing so to speak because I don't often write on my bigger projects which is a shame. This I'm hoping will therefore help me to get into a routine of writing regulary.

When I first started writing this I plotted the teeth out of it, I had an amazing muse, who didn't know he was a muse and never actually spoke to me but yeah I had a brilliant muse and he just dissappeared into nothingness and the whole story lost it's spark for me but I'm hoping I can make something of it so heres the first installment.


Chapter 1

'Can you tell us what's happened officer?' A man with a camera round his neck asked.
It was like Kyla had only suddenly woken up to the commotion around her, there were journalist, police officers, nosy members of the public all pushing there way towards the toilets on the station.
Kyla could have turned and walked away, but, she didn't instead she walked towards the scene, knowing she was small enough she weaved between the mass of people wanting to see what all the commotion was about, she was sure she had been in those deserted station toilets only moments ago, she was so sure of it but for some reason her head was all fuzzy.
She was surprised how quickly she weaved through the crowd as no matter how loudly she shouted no one seemed to take any notice of her or move out of the way, she figured it was because they were more interested in what had gone on.
As she pushed on she began to hit the crime scene itself, first she saw a foot, it was a girl, she knew this because those shoes were from Sandi's, she had a pair just like them.
Kyla doubled back, she felt sick, the victim, who everyone was talking about, the person who was causing all this commotion was the spitting image of herself, only it wasn't her, it couldn't be.
Three large parallel score lines crossed her chest the clothes, the same clothes Kyla had on were blood soaked, her throat looked like someone had taken a cheese wire to it as there was a long thin line where blood had poured from and soaked the clothes beneath it. Kyla's mind raced as she stared down at the blood soaked picture before her. She couldn't remember anything, not where she was before she had 'woken up' outside and pushed her way through. She had to ask someone what was happening, 'Excuse me sir,' she cried 'excuse me.' But no matter how loudly she shouted nobody heard even when she slapped the surly policeman he didn't flinch.
It couldn't be her, she couldn't be dead, surely she would remember. Maybe this was some awful nightmare and she would wake up soon, that was it she would wake up soon.
She turned to see a film crew behind her, they must be with the news, they were filming a short stout man in a large mac, microphone in his hand, he began to speak.
'Tonight's scene has caused disturbance among this small town and its people it is said that the victim of this terrible crime was Miss Kyla Swanson, aged 25, police are searching for any......'