Martha was late to lunch. Her hair flapped in the wind, her face red and her pace quick. Martha looked flustered and nervous. She sat down next to me and I moved over a little bit. She didn't just look flustered. She looked genuinely nervous.
"Hey Martha," I joked, "you're late." I laughed awkwardly, forcing a smile. Her eyes went wide. "N-no reason." I raised an eyebrow. "Alrighty then." I could tell she breathed out a sigh of relief. Everyone at lunch was speaking in hushed whispers, all traumatized by recent events. Suddenly, a teacher came running through the hallways. "HE'S DEAD! BOB GERALD! OUR JANITOR! DEAD!" I looked at Martha, surprised.
"Our janitor?! He was so nice! Who would ever want to kill him?" Part of me was legitimately asking this. Another, mischievous, side of me was trying to catch Martha in my trap. To find out if she was the murderer. Martha paled. "Y-yeah...he was. That's terrible." I take in a deep breath. Should I really be asking this? Yes, you should Casey. It's for the safety of the school. That's true... NO, Casey! She's your friend, don't do this to her! Too late.
Trying to settle myself, I ask her a question: "Martha, where were you before lunch?"
(BOI...dis ain't gonna be gud....either she lie or...she tell da truth)
(Don't question why I'm talking like dis)
YOU ARE READING
Thumbtack
Misteri / ThrillerTerrible tragedies popping up in a school cause two girls to try to investigate what's going on. Will they figure it out or die trying?
