"I'm afraid to announce that it was Callum Rycroft, our school's finest history teacher who was murdered."
My father's words keep ringing in my ears. I sit on the bleachers in shock. My body is suddenly too heavy to move a muscle.
Callum Rycroft
Murdered
Callum Rycroft
MurderedIt can't be true. Tears start to form in my eyes.
No, no, no. He couldn't be dead. The police have to be wrong.
I just saw him a few days ago when he was at the school to prepare for the new school year. He looked fine, happy even. How could he drop dead only a few days later? It doesn't make sense.
Callum is... was my favourite teacher at the academy. Even though I was the principal's daughter he never treated me any differently, not like the other teachers had. Yes, he had a soft spot for me but that never changed anything. He was always fair. He is the reason I fell in love with history. He was the most incredible teacher.
He loved being a teacher so much and didn't ever hesitate to help when a student was in need. When a student needed someone to talk to he'd accept them with open arms. He is the greatest teacher I've ever had and now he is just...gone.
I want to climb out of my skin. I can't take everyone's pitiful stares anymore. I need to get away from all these faces. I abruptly stand up and race past the other students as I run out of the basketball court. I can practically feel my father's questioning stare on my back at my abrupt outburst. But at this moment I simply do not care. He can lecture me about my reckless behaviour later. The whole school is probably already whispering about me, but I don't care. Not when my favourite teacher is dead. He made my last three years at the academy bearable. Losing him is something that is hard to grapple with.
I run to the only place I can think of at the academy. The place I know no one will bother me.
The library.
Through my years at the academy the library has become a sanctuary for me. I have spent countless hours in there. Some nights as well. The library is another world at night. There is nothing that quite hits like a warm cup of tea while reading in a library late at night.
I run until I reach the library's wooden doors. I push the heavy wooden doors open with a strong push. As soon as I slip into the room I am greeted by a three story library with rows of bookshelves with books on almost anything. I stride past the empty librarian's desk and make my way to the library's third floor. It is the quietest floor of the library and hence my favourite place.
I climb the stairs at an unusual fast pace. I reach the third floor in record time and I walk past a few rows of bookshelves before reaching my corner of the library.
No one ever really comes all the way up to the third floor. Too many stairs Alastor had once claimed when he once came looking for me. Since then he'd rather call me than climb all these stairs. He has a valid point I suppose.
YOU ARE READING
The Puppet Master
Mystery / ThrillerGwendolyn "Gwen" Donnelly has only ever wanted one thing in her life: become class president. In her senior year of high school a shocking murder throws a wrench into her plans. Gwen finds out that her favourite history teacher has been murdered an...