Who Killed Rosalie Gunther

Chapter 1

11 October 1999 8:00pm Jupiter, NC

Alice's POV

Rosalie struggled with the buttons on her jacket.

"I can't believe Dahlias is making you close tonight."

She sounded annoyed.

"She's not making me. I have to. Money is tight and I'm already short on rent for this month. I've been eating hotdogs all week. Not all of us get steak and potatoes for dinner every night." I was only teasing.

Rosalie tossed her ginger hair over her shoulder and adjusted her collar.

"Yeah well,"

She paused, reaching down to lift up one of her socks which had fallen slightly below her knee.

"I still think she takes advantage of your availability."

"She does not. There's always gonna be another party to go to. I need this job."

"Whatever you say Alice," she said as she retrieved a tube of red lipstick from her purse and swiped some across her lips.

"Go to the party Rosalie. Sam is probably wondering where you are by now. I'll try to make the end of it if the store is dead by 10."

I sighed deeply, as I finished stocking the last of the canned goods.

"Oh I'm definitely going. With or without you biatch."

Rosalie sneered and puckered her lips. Her skirt rising and revealing a black lace thong, as she spun around and headed for the door.

In all of the four years that Rosalie and I have been friends, she's always had the confidence I lacked. For that I envied her.

"Be careful," I said.

"Yeah yeah."

"Call me when you get there so I know you're safe!"

Rosalie playfully flipped me off and left.

*FLASHBACK*

"I'm really getting sick of you wearing my clothes."

Rosalie scolded me.

"Um okay. I'll just leave then. What the fuck is your problem?"

I stared at her for a long time.

"Nothing...I-I'm sorry." She said.

Rosalie kneeled in front of her bed where I lay comfortably on my side.

I looked into her eyes and cocked my head to the side. We looked at each other for a century. I brought myself to my feet and picked Rosalie up. Her legs wrapped around my waist. I pressed my lips against hers. She didn't fight back. She enjoyed it. She loved me. I knew she loved me. What wasn't there to love?

"Alice we should-."

I aggressively threw her on the bed and pinned her hands behind her head. She moaned gently.

"Alice no-."

I kissed her neck. Moving down her stomach until I reached the inside of her thighs.

"Alice! Fucking stop."

Without warning Rosalie's foot met my jaw. I fell backwards and grabbed my face. A small stream of blood ran its way down my chin.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!" I shouted.

"Me!?" What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"You're crazy!" I told her.

I got my stuff and headed for the door.

"Please don't go. Rosalie grabbed my wrists."

8:15pm

Rosalie's POV

I made the rash decision to leave my car in the parking lot and walk to Sam's. This way, If I drank I wouldn't have to worry about picking my car up in the morning. Little did I know, this one decision was about to cost me everything.

I had only walked about two blocks from Dahlias when I heard what sounded like footsteps in the distance.
I pulled my purse further up my shoulder, my gaze fixed straight ahead.

I should have just taken the car.

The footsteps grew louder. Inching closer. I didn't dare look back. I started up the block at a slow jog. Pacing myself.

The footsteps turned into loud stomps.
I couldn't risk it. All of a sudden I felt my body launch into a full on sprint.

I could hear my heart pounding as my feet slapped the pavement. The only streetlight in sight went out. Just my luck. I must have tripped, because somehow I ended up face down on the ground.

I was dazed and groggy but I remember distinctly, the sound of duck tape being pulled hard, ripped, and violently placed over my lips. I remember being dragged by my hair to the side of an abandoned building, pleading with my hooded attacker to let me live. It was so dark.

"Please don't do this to me!" The tape had completely muffled my cries.

My body ached and trembled.

I struggled hard, but the zip ties that now bound my wrists and feet together dug deep into my skin.

"Shut the fuck up."

Then came the blows.

Bloody, broken, bruised; I lay in that alley and awaited my fate.

I barely managed to pull myself to my knees when I was overpowered again.

I felt the sharp blade first pierce my chest, cracking my breast bone. A bitter taste filled my mouth. A crimson stain grew larger, spreading outward on the front of my white blouse.

My vision began to blur. I could still feel every thrust of the knife as it entered, then left my body. From my knees I fell forward, face planting into the ground with a hard smack. I was numb to any pain at this point.

With one final blow, the knife broke off in my neck. It was at that very moment, I knew I was going to die. I was given no mercy as I spent the last few seconds of my life choking and gurgling on my own blood. It felt as if someone had lit a match inside of my chest. My final thoughts: This person, whoever it was, wanted me dead. My breaths were shallow by then. Just as fast as the pain came it left, until I felt nothing at all. I saw a beautifully bright light and I walked towards it.

My name is Rosalie Gunther. And I was murdered on 11 October 1999.