'Think think think, who'd be after Tess? And for what reason? She wouldn't hurt a fly' The disturbing strong image of Tess hanging from the dark tall tree flashed before me once again, sending me feeling sick and hurt.
I needed to find a diary or some sort, I needed to get to her house.
It was 5pm. A dark, black curtain was covering the sky slowly, as the fierce cold wind embraced me, making it impossible for me to walk on quickly.
The last batch of 'respected' citizens were making their way in to their houses, holding on to their children and dissapearing within seconds. Protectfully, I put up my coat hoody and lowered my gaze in the hope, that the assemblage of scary street thugs, who were appearing amidst the dark valleys, would not notice my existance. Mother warned me not to leave the house, especially when thunder is said to be arriving tonight, but staying confined within 4 walls makes me feel immensley nauseous. The feeling that kicks in, that I am warm inside the house whilst my best friend's killer is out there somewhere, sends me out that door every day.
'There goes the doorbell'. Indescribable. There is no words to describe the way I'm feeling, I haven't been here after Tess died. What if they blame me? I was the one who was with Tess that day, I was not able to protect her...she was innocent, I was the devil- 'I really can't go in'
As I turned to leave, the door opened. 'Great'
Eoghan. He swept his blonde fringe from his bright blue eyes, revealing an adorable smile, that could possibly light up this whole street. This young angel has lost his older angel, his role model, his everything. I'm done, I can't do this.
"Don't leave as well" He whispered, embracing my legs. I looked down at him, as my heart burnt, tears prickling at my eyes. I swallowed hard, and knelt down to his level.
He smiled at me, I couldn't meet his stare. Suddenly, a fireball of strong desire burnt within me, as I looked into his eyes,
"I'll find the bad guy, I promise"
As I walked up the stairs, a thought came across me. 'Who opened this door? Eoghan's certainly not tall enough...and who the hell would leave a 5 year old home alone?'
A sound of a box or something that fell, reached me. Startled, I peered down from the side of the stairs. I could make out a figure, exiting the kitchen rapidly.
"Mrs Aldale?"
No reply.
That certainly was her, no one else would wear a floral tee, baggy salmon trousers accompanied with sandals and socks. As Tess would say 'Fashion faux-pas!'
So she is angry, she opened the door but pressumably ran it. God, I never felt so hated...and uninvited. 'To hell with this, what the hell. I'm out, I'll look elsewhere if so be it'
As I walked towards the door, I stopped. 'No, I don't deserve this. She was my best friend, I looked out for her as much as she did'
"Mrs Aldale..." The living room light was dull and I could just about make a figure out, near the fire place. How, such a beautiful, bright, joyful house can change within a week is beyond me. But I guess, after Tess...
"Mrs Aldale, can I speak to you? Please?" I managed to say. Little Eoghan emerged from the depths, running around her, pretending to be an aeroplane. I sat in the sofa, in front of her.
She looked as if she hadn't eaten for weeks, there were serious eyebags evident and her hair looked extremely uncared for. Why am I even surprised? A mother lost her daughter... her grief is like wearing a pair of very tight fitted shoes, which she can not take off, just as one can not think of anything else but one's feet hurting because of those shoes, so also in her grief she can not think of anything but loss, She cannot get away from it. It's her main focus of attention. And the whole body begins to hurt too, her face will also reflect the pain. That's right, her grief can be seen as one wearing a pair of tight fitted shoes.
"Why did you not help her Amelia?" She said, her voice almost croaky.
Eoghan dropped his toy mobile, in the silence followed, startling us both.
"I swear to God, she called me over at the old park to tell me something really, really important. She was really scared, to the extent of where, even I became terrified, her expressions were freaking me out. And then, It all happened so fast. I don't remember anything, that's what kills. I woke up from a unconcious state to find out I have been attacked, and that is when I saw..." I broke into a cry, my shaking hands taking in the weight of my head.
I felt like I was at nursery again, crying in a foreign environment where no one understands me.
Suddenly, I felt a hand on my head. I looked up and it was Mrs Aldale. She managed a smile, which comforted me compared to her expressions before.
"Mrs Aldale, I swear I didn't see it coming"
She sat back down, looked up and sighed, "I know dear, I know"
"I came here to check for any possible clues, as to who may have been following her-"
"Someone had been following her?" She interrupted, all signs of life appearing, amidst her face.
"...It's been happening for almost a year...I noticed it last November. She texted me about having various nightmares, of this person... who was trying to end her life... each nightmare ended with her dead. All throughout the year, she was becoming more and more paranoid by the minute. She had felt his eyes on her every second of the day. Tess even mentioned seeing shadows of him within this house"
Mrs Aldale just stared back at me, absorbing everything I had told her. It was a long time before she spoke again.
"...She was very depressed, you know. The last few days she was here, she seemed really closed up and afraid. I passed it off as an illness, or study stress...oh God! I wish I had talked to her"
After what seemed like ages, I stood up. "I hope you do not mind, but I came here to check Tess's room, if I can find anything"
"I'll see with you" Her mum said after a long pause.
We carefully, picked up all of her books and placed them on her bed. Mrs Aldale, was checking through them while I logged onto her computer. Her password was 'Eoghan' I recall, the poor boy was asleep, probably dreaming of Tess and him, eating popsicles, as he always tells me.
'Right, emails.'
Most of them were from Dorothy Perkins, and me. Spending 10 minutes looking through, I didn't have any luck whatsoever.
"I can't find that diary" Mrs Aldale said, in frustration.
"No luck here either" I responded, checking drafts now. I squinted my eyes, as I clicked on junk.
(UNKNOWN)
(UNKNOWN)
(UNKNOWN)
(UNKNOWN)
(UNKNOWN)
(UNKNOWN)
(UNKNOWN)
(UNKNOWN)
This repeated...over a year. My heart had stopped.
"...Mrs Aldale..."
"Ah. I found it" She replied, running over to me with a navy diary.
She peered over my shoulder, as I stared at the screen.
"So did i...."
