Simpler Things

Part 4: Remember Me?

I went to my room upstairs. Sliding into my chair I attacked the keyboard. The Internet is a beautiful place. Except when your looking for 1 person and 7 million results show up instead. I went back up to the search bar, putting brackets on either side of the name. The search lessened to only 5 million. Lucky me. I clicked through, until I stumbled upon one that sparked my attention. A black and gold graduation robe. Our school colours. I thought he transferred? But here James Cameron was. In our school uniform. A small plaque rested in his hands. I zoomed in, it read: This hereby certifies James Cameron of graduating grade 6. James was the same age as I am. I'm in ninth grade, right now. The picture must've been old. I felt terrible. He had dreams and hopes. I saved and printed the image. The paper slipped out with a loud mechanical noise. I grabbed the page and examined it.

I heard My a door open from across the hall, and a knock on mine.
"Alyson?" He said. I hid the page in my book.
"Yeah?" I said. He shuffled his feet.
"They want us to come downstairs, dad's here." I pushed away from my computer, the wheels on my chair carried me to the window. The same window I looked through just hours before. Charlie was right. My father's black sedan was parked across the street.
"Alyson, hi sweetie." My father brought me into a hug. I hugged back, it was nice to see him. His partner, Detective Blanchard walked up behind us. I stepped back and noticed my brother had joined us. Shaking my dad's hand, Charlie smiled.
"Hi dad." My dad smiled, exposing straight white teeth. A trait he did not pass on. His green eyes sparkled mischievously,
"Where's your mom?" I smiled,
"Police already questioned her." I looked over at my father's partner. He spoke in a deep voice,
"I'm going to go ask the forensic team what they knows so far. Hi, Lee." He poked his chest. Seeing my expression he slapped my dad's shoulder, and left.
"I'll be right there," my dad turned his head and called after him. He looked back at me. I rolled my eyes and said,
"Go." He smiled and left to join his partner.
I looked back at the crime scene. A man in a navy blue tyvek suit was snapping photos of James. I walked around the police cars amd forensic van. Just as I was passing the last car, I caught the last of a conversation making me stop,
"-latent finger print found on his jacket. Probably the sweat of the killer." One of the forensic scientist said. I pressed against the side of the van. The conversation continued,
"Yeah, my bet is he didn't leave any others." Another voice pitched in,
"He?" The second voice replied,
"Judging from the blood force trauma and the stab wounds, someone more than... 200 had to have done it. It's either a man or a very muscular women. He would've been tall." I heard a couple of hums of agreement. The conversation was over. I continued on my way.
A male. Around 200 pounds. Stab wounds... I thought over in my head. I slipped my phone out of my pocket. Opening messages, I ran down the names, finding my closest friend I sent a text.
Hey, last minute, but can you meet me in Tims in 15?
She replied,
Sure, but make it 20.
I rolled my eyes and sent one last message,
Fine, but don't be late >:)

I sat at Tims with a hot chocolate in between my hands. It was early September, like 30°, and I sat there. Drinking a hot chocolate. Megan pushed the door opened. Her long chocolate hair brushed past her shoulder. She pushed her round black glasses further up her nose. I mini waved her over to my table.
"Where have you been?" I asked, irritation rang throughout my voice.
"You think I wake up looking this good?" I rolled my eyes, for the third time today, to her response. She gestured to her yellow top and dark denim jeans. She took her phone out of her pocket and placed it on the table.
"So what's up?" She asked. She smiled, showcasing her neon blue braces.
"Oh nothing much," I sipped my hot chocolate to seem chill, "hey, you remember James?" I studied her every move.
"Your childhood crush, James?" She pointed at my chest, her elbow rested on the table.
"Oh." I felt myself redden. I forgot I told her that. I said,
"Yeah... Well, we were friends first. That was probably just put into my head by my mom." She flicked her eyebrows in response.
"Okay, I'm going to go get a sandwich. You want anything?" Megan said. I shrugged,
"Nah, I'm good." Waving my hot chocolate as I finished it off. Megan walked away, leaving me with my thoughts. A man across the café got up, walking past me. He wore a long black coat, considering the weather I thought it was strange. As he slipped past a piece of paper fell onto my table.
"Hey, you dropped something," I got up, picking up the piece of paper. "Wait!" I chased him to the doorway, but an old couple stopped me. He slipped past, easily. I looked at the piece of paper in my hand. Probably from an old legal pad. I opened it up, it read,

"I know how James Cameron died."