Chapter 1, Sammie

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Chapter One, Sammie

You know that girl, Hallie, who’s been dead almost two months now, and the investigation’s still going on? Of course you don’t. Why would you know about the murders that go on in Richmond, Virginia? Well, unless you happen to live here, in which I would say where were you the past few weeks?

I am getting ahead of myself. I should probably tell you what the report says. It is the only thing I know for certain about the police’s handiwork on her death. It says, in dark print: Hallie Kennon, DOA, 16, Blunt Force Trauma to the Skull. It was gorier than that statement. Blood was all over the place, I lost a good month’s worth of sleep because that’s all I saw when I shut my eyes. Blood coming from her head haunted me every single night. But not even that, the sound she made before she died. It still goes through my head every day.

“Hallie Kennon, aspiring young athlete, star of the school musical, and friend to everyone at Jacob Lawrence High school, was found dead in Dogwood Park this morning. Cause of Death is yet to be released to the press. Friends and Family are mourning for their fallen star.” That’s a run down of what the news casters said. This story was broadcasted as much as the weather. New updates brought in daily, but a lot of them were false accusations. An arrest still hasn’t come yet, and that shocks me. The evidence points to Emily and Hannah, but why they haven’t picked up on it, I am not sure.

Whenever I step down the hallways, I feel as if everyone’s blaming each other. Who done it? was a popular lunch pastime of those in her closest circle. I didn’t waste my time with the blame game, I already knew who did it. Not to say, hearing other people’s guesses were amusing.

“I think that weirdo Grayson did it.”

“Maybe it was Jackson."

“I suspect it was her sister, what’s her name? Kathy! That’s it. I mean, she had every reason to.”

“It’d be funny if it was Savannah, considering they’re best friends.”

“What about Susie?”

“Hank most definitely. He can’t control his actions, at least that’s what his meds say. I know, I’ve seen them.”

See what I mean? The blame game is what occupied us for as long as the lunch lasted. My friends and I somewhat did this game, me not participating. Dylan seemed much more interested in Hallie’s life after she died than before, which I guess happened to about all of the school. We all wanted to know what she was like, we wanted to comfort her friends, we wanted to know who killed our fellow classmate. We had a tree planted in her honor, a Weeping Willow, and decorated her locker with some of her beloved items. Whenever I passed it, which was about every time I went to English class, I got smacked in the face by her favorite perfume, which they sprayed in front of her locker. Daily. It was a sweet gesture, but it got annoying after two or three weeks.

One person seemed to be more depressed than the rest of us, the football player Luke. Don’t ask me why, but he seemed to tear up whenever the word ‘Hallie’ was mentioned. He was the one with Hannah as a girlfriend. Or whatever you call their little arrangement, it was just weird. I think I was the only one who noticed it though, but that was probably just me. That whole group seemed a little on edge though, as if something was up with them. Their little world is crumbling down as I tell you this. I hope that after I tell you about Hallie, their world will be shattered for good.

“New development in the Hallie Kennon story!”

“Possible arrest? Find out at ten.”

“Who did it? That’s what Jacob Lawrence students want to know.” 

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