I Know who killed Me (Rewriting)

1.

Chapter 01:

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I hate this town.

When I say I hate it, it means planting a bomb somewhere and letting the whole place explode so it won't be part of the map anymore. Don't ask me why I hate this place. Ever since I was three we already resided here until now that I'm turning eighteen.

Speaking of becoming eighteen I can't wait for that day to come because that's the day when I can get the hell out of this town nicknamed, Pink Friday. If you think that this place is where Unicorns, Rainbows and Chocolate Houses were born then you're wrong.

Weird and Abormal like my Dad would call it. He affectionately classified our neighbors; the ones who had Voodoo Dolls as toys and the ones who acts as socialelites even though they are average people themselves.

My Father was a writer and ever since my Mom died he decided to devote all of his life to me and to his writing.

He actually published three books now but I guess people never really like it. Including me, I guess. Who wants to read a boring science fiction book? No one.

"Poppy?" 

I heard Dad calling me upstairs. It sounded like he's in his study room. He's probably working on his latest book that he's going to publish next month. Another fail for him. Sometimes I just want to tell him that no one likes his books and why does he even want to write, anyway?

I made my way upstairs three steps at a time making a massive thud sounds because of my boots. 

Dad's oaken door were thrown open and there he sat in the same swivel chair his curved back facing me. He was wearing the same red and yellow suit that surely Ronald McDonald will surely die for.

"Did you know?" 

He asked turning to his back to face me. There was enough light in the room to emanate how frenzied he looked like. His hair black and pepper but it's not in its usual perfect Ken hair like what Mom would call it. It was messy like a mad scientist.

Deep, dark circles could be detected beneath his eyes. One look at him you could easily tell that his looks doesn't match the age of Forty-two and considering that he loves to wear those hawaiian shorts. He looks like he's older than my Grandma Jojo.

"Did you know what?" 

I asked crossing my arms dramatically and raising one brow up. He didn't respond instead he got the piece of paper resting on his desk and gave it to me. My mouth gaped open to see a picture of a girl the word, Missing in bold letters. Then her name at the bottom, I almost forgot how to breathe.

Madilyn Houston.

The Reverend's daughter. I use to see her in St. Mary every Sunday. She's part of the Angelican choir and I heard that this girl has always been the Number one in their class. I scanned the fuzzy picture once more. Madilyn Houston wearing her lovely smile. Her brown curls sprawled down up to her back. I'm guessing that this is her year book photo.

"Reverend told me she's been missing for a day already."

How come I never heard my classmates talking about this? A day? This girl's has been missing for a day? Who? Why? Questions started to plague my mind. I can't help but to feel bad his Father, the Reverend is a nice guy.

I remember when he used to give me candy whenever I go to church. He must feeling sad and alone considering that Madilyn is the only person left with him.

Is he coping up?

"I'm not trying to be strict or whatever but I want you to go home exactly at five p.m. after school starting tomorrow or I'll go hysterical and call the police."

I nodded my head, speechless. Ever since we live here. None of this incident happens. My Mom always tells me that the people of this town were very friendly and kind. So, friendly that they know each names of the people that lives here.

Who could do this to Madilyn?

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A/N: This is going to be my first non-romance story. Well, I might put that in here not quite sure...