The Adventures of a Student-Teacher Murder Committee

7 freckles and 3 bodies

Some people are purely magic. Not the voodoo-spell-book kind, but the kind where if you discovered that they possessed some sort of rare outlandish power, it wouldn't shock you one drop. They show up and disappear like ghosts slipping through the walls and they'll crawl into your thoughts for perhaps an hour or two each day until you finally meet them. And when you do, it's beautiful. Everything becomes beautiful. The bizarre thing about it all is that you barely even know the person. And that's what makes you want to stay.
Violet was one of those people. She went by the name Vie, which rhymed with die, which she liked for whatever reason. Vie had seven freckles on her nose and one freckle just below her belly button. Her hair was the color of night, just like her eyes. Her voice was blunt but strong. She was one of my best students, being that she was at the top of her class.
I sat at my desk at the front of the grey painted classroom. The walls were drab as ever, except for the oil painting of a toddler smoking a pipe which hung above the door. The baby wore a bright red hat and a dark green coat, and with each school year the edges of the canvas began to age and lose color. It was like the painting was slowly melting into the wall, taking the young child along with it.
Vie came to class early as usual and smelt of lavender and acrylic paint. Her black shirt hung loosely off of her petite body and over it she wore a dark green sweater much like the one in the painting. She nodded at me, her features coated with exhaustion. She set a list down on my desk and sat down at hers. We made small talk.
"How did you sleep last night, Vie?" I pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose and smiled pleasantly.
"Just fine." she replied quietly. She stared down at the floor in front of me.
"Did you finish up the-"
"Yes."
I cleared my throat and took a moment to straighten my pencils. They were all sharpened to a point, except for one. I snapped it in half and threw it away. Vie sighed deeply and I could see the lack of color in her cheeks and red paint on her hands. She laid her head down on the table and pulled her sweater over her head.
It was my fault. Last night was supposed to be my night. She owed me a favor and I didn't feel like sharpening my stuff, so I told her to do it. That made two nights in a row for her. She was tired.
After a long and loud silence, I said to her "How did you do?"
"Take a look at the list," she replied irritably, her head still resting on the table
I had already looked at it. "I did. You did a nice job. Twins and a cheerleader. Not to bad."
She lifted up her head and looked at me. "You owe me."
"I know. I'm sorry."
"Don't be," she replied. A moment later she got up, trailed over to my desk, and slammed down her fist; her voice dropped down to a whisper.
"Actually, do be sorry. You've been sloppy lately. You almost got caught last week. You do realize what would happen if you got caught, right?"
I swallowed my own spit. My mouth was dry. "I know. My bad, Vie. Don't worry though, it won't happen again."
Her fist slowly lifted from and the desk and she left the room, slamming the door behind her.
Sometimes I forget how much effort it takes to get rid of someone. The actual stabbing and chopping part-that's easy. An art form, yes, but with practice, easy. But the disposal. Cleaning up the blood. Hiding the head. That's all hard work.
Vie is good at her job. She hides her tracks and slips through holes and cracks easily. When it comes to the jabs, she's magic. She makes sure the person knows what's going on a split second before it happens, and in that moment of recognition she takes advantage. Vie is a good murderer.