I wasn't supposed to go to the island, not listen to any distress signals, but I went anyway. I had been told it was a party, but it hadn't looked like that from what the guests had looked like, it had made me want to go to the island to see.
I sailed my boat through the water on the first clear day to the island. I went up onto the island and saw something that would freak anyone out: dead bodies. There were two bodies; one was shot through the heart and the other looked like he'd been drowned. They were both lying there neatly.
I went to the woodshop before the house as it was closer. Inside was a gruesome sight: The man, Mr. Rogers I thought, that was the new butler for the house lay there dead. He was next to a pile of wood sticks and there was a chopper next to him; a large heavy chopper that was covered in blood. Mr. Rogers had blood surrounding him in a large puddle.
I backed out of the shed and headed up to the house, scared by what I might find. I didn't even have to go inside to find another person; someone was on the porch. It was one of the men and he had a bear-shaped clock on his head, crushing it.
I turned away and went inside, but the downstairs was empty. It was perfectly clean, but it was also empty and silent. There was no one downstairs as all. I decided to go upstairs and slowly went up the stairs, hoping that the rest were just sleeping but highly doubting it.
The hall was empty so I opened the first door and found a man lying there. I saw nothing wrong with him except that he wasn't breathing and was lying perfectly still and neatly. He looked quite young; he'd been the one to arrive in the speeding car just before I'd left with the main part of the group.
The next room held a much older man that was lying neatly and it was obvious that he was dead. I left it as that and went into the next room to find another elderly man.
This man had been visibly killed; a shot to the head. I left him as he was, neat and peaceful. As I left the room, something on the ground had caught my eye: a revolver. So that had been the gun used to shoot those two people, I'd thought. I left it as it was and went into the room.
I found Mrs. Rogers there, Mr. Rogers' wife and the cook of the house. She had no visible wounds and was just lying there. I moved on.
I found the elderly woman that had sat up straight the whole ride and had shown no emotion. She had a small hole in her neck, barely visible. It looked like on you'd get from a syringe at the doctor's. I went to see the tenth and last person.
The last person, the youngest lady that had seemed to kind, had died in a horrible way: hanged. She was still hanging there in the middle of her room, but no stool or chair under her. The only chair was against the wall, though it did have seaweed on it like the woman's shoes.
That sight had me running back to my boat where the others that had come after I had were waiting. I told them what I had found and some of us went back to the mainland to get you, the police…
Just something I had to write for Language Arts and decided to post on here. Tell me what you think of it?