Starry Eyed

Chapter Forty-Six

Chapter Forty-Six

By the time I'd come to, it was at least two' o'clock. Outside, the sky had become murky, and rainclouds were settling over the school. My memory felt just as hazy until I caught sight of the discarded journal, lying beside me on the floor. Then it all came flooding back to me. I wished I could black out again. At least that way I could pretend nothing had ever happened.

Eventually, though, I obviously had to get up. My head was thumping. My body still wasn't feeling so good, either. Awkwardly I forced myself to my feet, ignoring the remembered pain from before. I had to tell somebody what was going on. I couldn't just let this go. I'd discovered the killer; my decision could be the one fine line between more mass murder or saviour.

I leaned down to scoop up the journal. The cover was plain red, smooth, not a scratch on it. It was almost eerie to see the journal look so perfectly new and clean, when the inside was just a collection of plans to kill. Finn was sick in the head. After all that, he'd just so casually been the one to murder his own roommate. But why? I flicked open the journal again, feeling a sense of dread just waiting for the letters to pop back up. My drowsiness made me forget about the invisible ink at first. When I realized, it seemed that the sun wasn't bright enough through the clouds to give me much light, so I switched on the lamp, locked the door, and inspected the pages at the desk.

The first page wasn't so much of a surprise to me, but it still made my stomach lurch. I scanned over it again quickly, wondering if Finn had bothered listing anything about why he wanted to just go slitting his best friend's throat. Nothing, of course. But it was always worth taking a look; after all, he'd been stupid enough to record all this dangerous stuff on paper. There was no reason why he wouldn't be dumb enough to write that information down.

I flipped the page over with a sense of fear niggling at the back of my mind. The next couple of pages were empty, but it didn't take long to find another plot. 'Kiara- pistol- failed.' I didn't recognise the name, but that didn't stop the horror from creeping over me. Finn had tried to shoot somebody. It had obviously gone wrong at some point and tipped in the victim's favour, but still, he could have blown this Kiara girl's brains out and nobody would have ever suspected him. How could we have seen him to be innocent? Again, no reasons were listed. I skimmed ahead, starting to feel a little nauseous. But no other names were there. I was just starting to think it wasn't such great proof, but as I neared the end of the journal, I found a jumble of thoughts splattered all over the place, simply titled 'Plastics'.

Brainstorm ideas pointed out in arrows from that one centre word. They mentioned fireworks, cigarettes, all kinds of minor explosives, and I realized Finn had never been messing around. These were the blueprints for Finn's first murder attempts that I knew of- his 'casual' pranks on the cool kids, where he burnt them with spitting fireworks all the way to the hospital. My thoughts had become way too brutal and violent; my head was reeling.

Another look through the journal told me there were no more creepy plots or thoughts planned out anywhere in here. But I had the evidence I needed. Finn was the killer, and now I had to go tell somebody. I doubted they'd even care about me wagging if I brought serious information in like that. Where did I go? The school office seemed too low-ranked for something this level, but the police seemed too high up, and it was more about the academy than them, at least for now.

I hauled myself up off the desk, clutching the journal to my chest. I still had no concept of time, just a very rough idea, but a quick glance at the alarm clock made me realize how late it was. Classes would be ending in just a couple of minutes; there would be a flood of students spilling out any moment now. It was a blessing. Nobody would notice the kid who'd been skipping school today.