One Whole Year

Don't mess with Cleo!

ANOTHER LONG ONE :) LOOOVE FROM MORGAN !

Chapter nine

Cleo Cavaliers point of view.

I wake up to silence. This is amazing. Normally by now, the crazy chicks from Lilac would already be up and creating much noise as possible. I take off my pink silk eyemask and swing my legs over my large waterbed. I smooth out my Chanel night gown and step into my fluffy heels slippers and pull on my silky nightgown. I trot down the stairs, heading directly for the kitchen.  I swing open the French door and sigh.

“Oh my god Emma, you honestly can’t study anywhere else?” I ask impatiently

I look down at the dweeb sitting at the table feel almost sorry for her. She is so sad. She never leaves the house, dresses like a sixty year old woman and has nearly every book issued out in the library. But like I said, I ALMOST felt sorry for her. But I didn’t. It’s my daddy’s motto; put yourself first and care for no other. And, because my daddy is a mega-millionaire, I figure if I live life to his advice, I will become one too.

“No, Cleo. I’m not moving, so deal with it.” She sighs.

“AAARRGGH!” I yell. I hate it when I don’t get my way!

“The only reason I’m in here is because your ridiculous party demolished the living room, where I usually study. And, what’s worse, you can’t even clean it yourself! You’re paying someone else to do it!” she yells, exasperated.

“I don’t really care what you’re saying right now.” I answer unemotionally while inspecting under my nails.

“Forget it! You are such an ungrateful brat!” she yells, before stomping out of the room.

“whatever.” I say, and walk over to the refrigerator and pull out a grapefruit. I pop it on the bench and press play on the kitchen television.  Yay, the hills! I cut into the grapefruit and eat a bite. I love the hills. Sasha and I always watch it after a huge event, often when she was hungover. That reminds me… I still hadn’t seen her since yesterday afternoon, before the party. That was weird…and she still had to give me back my silk scarf! No wonder she was hiding from me, that scarf was almost priceless, from the personal wardrobe of Anna Wintour!

“SA-SHAAA!” I yell, stabbing my knife into the grapefruit.

I stomp all the way up the stairs, swearing and shouting in anger. When I get to her door, I bang loudly with my fist.

“SASHA PHILIPS! OPEN THIS DAMN DOOR!” I scream. Sasha doesn’t open so I bang my fist again.

“SASHA! OPEN IT, I KNOW YOUR’RE IN THERE!” I scream louder than before. That’s it, I’ve had it.  I raise my leg and kick the double doors open with my slipper heels. 

“Oh my god…oh my god...oh my god!” my eyes rest on a thick rope coiled around the beam on the roof and off it hangs…Sasha. Her lips are purple, her eyes glassy and unfeeling. I fall to my knees and throw up on the carpet.

“Oh great, now you’re hungover and throwing up everywhere. Fantastic! More to...” Emma stops her sentence when she sees Sasha hanging from the noose. “…clean.

Antoinette Clarre’s point of view.

I had a restless sleep. It is quite weird, normally I felt relaxed and at home here. I didn’t think I was that upset about Amber and Ingrid’s insults last night, but apparently I was.  I rubbed my eyes and yawned loudly. I hear a siren  vaguely in a background, and heard it coming nearer and nearer. Oh well, it’s too early for me to care. I saunter down the hall and expect the usual chaos in the kitchen. I open the door and brace myself.

Silence.

“Hello?” I call out. This is weird. I mean, having no noise and people, sure, that’s to be expected. But no noise and no people? Where is everyone?

“Antoinette! You’re finally up!” Ingrid comes rushing in from the front door, still dressed in her bathrobe and slippers.

“Why aren’t you dressed?” I question

“Something… something bad happened at Rose dorm last night.” She says slowly

“What…?” I ask suspiciously.

“We’re not sure… come outside.” She grabs my hand and pulls me outside, oblivious to the fact im still in my pyjamas.

Outside, there is a huge crowd gathered outside our neighbours. There are even some camera men and reporters set up in different areas on the lawn. There is police tape coiled around the front property and policemen cast all over.

“What the…?” I ask Ingrid. She nods her head incredulously, giving me no answer. I look around and nobody’s facial expressions give me answers. They all have the same look; confusion. We can hear reporters discussing, words like investigation, discretion, family remains…corpse. We are all stuck in a standstill until all the reporters become animated and the front doors swing open. Three policemen wheel out a stretcher with a white sheet draped over the top. People start crying, some falling to the ground and others yelling, asking who it is. Amber walks up behind Ingrid and I and whispers.

“Guys, I prayed that Cleo would die because she got me in trouble… what if she is?” she asks shakily.

“No, no, maybe they’re passed out?” Ingrid says. But nobody believes her.

“Alright students, we have been asked to send you back to your dorms – any information you need call the front office. The principal has also requested you do not call to ask what has happened or the office will be swamped.” A policeman yells through a megaphone. Nobody reacts until a lone voice calls out;

“How do we find out anything then?”

“It will all be on the morning news-“ That is all the encouragement the crowd needs. Streams of students hurry back to their dorms to catch the eight o’clock news.

Chandra, Amber, Ingrid, riley and I race back inside and switch on the television, barley glancing up from the Screen.

“And now to our special correspondent, Amanda Willis.”

“Thanks Kaye.  I’m here at St. Mackillops prestigious boarding school where tragedy has struck. 17 year old student, Sasha Philips, has tragically died. At first the police thought her death was caused by suicide, but further investigation has proved this well – liked student was in fact, killed in suspicious circumstances.“  The reporter says with bounce in her tone. We just stare awkwardly at the screen, shocked. A photo flashes up of Sasha at the school ball last year and another of her on a beach. I look to my friends. Ingrid is silently crying, amber has her hand covering her mouth and Chandra’s eyes are big and unbelieving.

“Sasha…she..she’s dead?” I ask. I immediately feel stupid for saying it, but nobody faults my ridiculous comment.

“Who do you think did it?” asks Riley.

We look to each, but we obviously don’t know the answer. The newsreader continues reading out information.

“The police have yet to discover cause of death and who killed her. There will be ongoing investigations but no more information will be released to the public.” She continues.

Our sombre silence is interrupted by Ramona running into the lounge room with her jogging attire on.

“Morning ladies and getns! I trust we had a ggod sleep?” she asks perkily. She looks around and notices our miserable expressions.

“What happened to you guys? Did someone die?” she asks jokingly.

“Yes.” Ingrid says in a small voice.

“Oh hahah- …wait. Someone actually died?!” she asks, unbelieving

“Sasha.” We reply in unison.

“Wow.” Ramona sits down and has a disbelieving appearance on her face. We all sit in dead silence until Amber speaks up;

“How in the hell are you not hungover?!”