How to kill a poet

Chapter 2 (The girl at the back of class)

The girl at the back of class hated london.
Sure, London was the place where she had grown up. Sure, she had loved it once, but not anymore.

London killed her mother. All the things she used to love had left her with a bitter taste in her mouth and murder on her mind.

Her mother was a beautiful and talented actress, or atleast she used to be, before she was killed by The girl's classmates father.

It wasn't hard to tell by Cassius' behaviour that he was Alastair's son.
He was a scrawny kid with a bad attitude and zero manners, who
Sat four rows in front of the girl at the back of Class.

The girl knew Cassius exceedingly well. Cassius and her lived close to each other, both in their luxury Apartments in london.

Growing up they'd been close friends, as they both were only children of wealthy parents.

That all changed one day after one of her mothers performances. The girl would never forget that day.

The girl at the back of class was fairly certain she'd been around six years old.
Her father woke her up by running his hand through her dark brown hair so he could see her face, then tickling her stormach gently.

"Father,' She grinned, as her Brown eyes flew open, 'Stop it.'

He smiled at her, a smile the girl rarely saw anymore. 'Good Morning honey,' he said.

'Morning Papa.'

'Did you sleep well?'

'Yes Papa.'

The girl sat up. She stretched her arms inhaling the bitter scent of black coffee. She wore a silky button up that was far too big for her six-year old scrawny self, but she didnt mind. The soft fabric soothed her.

'Is mommy here?,' she asked.
Her mother was a busy woman and the girl knew she had to be at the teathre that day. Still, sometimes the girl was lucky enough to catch her on her way out the door and give her a bye-bye huggie.

'Im sorry Honey. Mommy has already left," her father said.

'It's okay.'

Her father sat down on the bed smiling at the girl. 'So..' he said, a twinkle in his eye, 'If only today was a special day.' he sighed.

The girl smiled. 'If only, she said. She knew it was a special day. Her mother was going to star in a big play, wich meant her and her dad had the whole day to themselves. He'd promised to take her into the city.

'Then we could put on our shoes and.. go out for breakfeast!'

It was a promise not a wish.

'Yay!' the girl cheered. She had been naive, living in the calm before the storm. Spending Every day under the luxury of a blue sky. As she ought to at her age. To blind to see the dark clouds rolling in.

'Can we go to Laurent's?' the girl queried. She crossed her fingers under her duvet so her father couldn't see. Her mother always adviced her never to tell anyone her deepest wishes, and in that moment her deepest wish was having breakfast at Laurent's.

'I already talked to Mr Laurent,' her dad said, 'We will leave in five minutes. Don't put on your pretty dress. It's raining outside. We'll get it later.'

'Okay!' she jumped out of her bed and ran across the floor while her dad went into the kitchen.

She put on a black sweater with a pair of brown trousers. Looking for her hairbrush she opened a drawer, where she heeded a floaty piece of black fabric.

She Scurried to the kitchen and showed it to her father.
'Will you tie a hairbow please?' she pleaded.

'But we are going to be late honey. It's just a hairbow.'