The Popularity Project

Chapter One - Beginnings

Beep!

Beeeeep! Riiiing!

I groan and shut my alarm off. It's far too early to even contemplate opening my eyes. Whoever the idiotic moron who decided school needs to start at 8 o'clock needs to be hunted down so I can give him a piece of my mind. This is ridiculousness, absolute bullshit. Of course, staying out on a Sunday partying doesn't leave, much time for sleeping, or getting over a hangover. I groan again when my alarm goes off in a panicked frenzy. Calm down, this alarm clock is stressing me out.

I remember brief moments from last night:

The entangled bodies, swaying to the hammering music.

The intoxication levels, so much alcohol.

The drugs that I made a point to stay away from, thankfully.

That man, his hands on me.

I shudder at the memory of him. He was large, pudgy even, and undoubtedly a football player, my guess a linebacker. I think he said he was in college, but now I cannot fathom how he could play on a college football team. He couldn't even persevere when we were dancing. The most ludicrous things make sense when you're hammered, I guess.

"Vivian! I hope you're awake, I can't be late to work this morning," my brother, Oliver, calls up to me. He just got a job at my aunt's company, and he is the type to need to make a great first impression. This is his second month working for my aunt, Penelope, and I've never seen him more stressed. I'm not completely sure what she makes him do all day, but knowing her, imp sure whatever it is it's horrendous.

Here's the 411 on my family: my parents died in a car accident when I was ten years old, it was devastating in an expected way. They were superlative parents, the kind that loved their children more than life itself. Never overbearingly hard on us, just supportive. Ollie, my twin sister Rosalie, and I lived in Florida until the funeral. We lived with our grandmother, Gemma, until my wicked aunt Penelope claimed custody. Since she was fit for us, with a stable job, a large home, and a clear conscious, she won the suite. Gemma suffered the guilt of losing her daughter and son-in-law. She blamed herself, or so Ollie tells me.

Hard stuff, right? I thought so too, I thought nothing could be any worse than losing your parents as such a pivotal age. Nonetheless, I was wrong. Two years ago, when I was fifteen years old, my twin sister went missing, and is presumed dead. Her body was never found, and the supposed murderer walked free, in my opinion.

Understand, the police working this case held sympathy for my family and I, they wanted to solve this case quickly so we could properly grieve. So, they essentially pinned the murder on Rosalie's boyfriend. He was possessive, sure, but I knew how much he loved her. Chris Johnson was his name, the fifteen year old boy who loved my sister more than anything. I knew she was cheating on him. She never told me who, and supposedly that was the motive for Chris to kill her.

He was released finally, there wasn't enough evidence to convict him, but the lack of evidence didn't mean anything to the community. Death threats to his house every day, and in school... Rosalie was loved by everyone, so her death affected everyone deeply. She was the kind of girl that never made you feel as though you were anomalous. She loved everyone for their faults, and I was always envious of her way with people. Chris Johnson couldn't handle the death threats and sneers and vicious words any longer, it seems, because he committed suicide only weeks after being released from the penitentiary. In his suicide letter, he admitted to killing Rosalie, with explicit detail that made the stomachs of those who read it turn and curdle.

The investigation was over, and I was left a bad case of whiplash. Everything happened so quickly, her death, Chris' conviction and release, his suicide, and the note that organized all the fine details. It was too tidy, too clean-cut for my liking. Something was off in the whole story, and I made it my mission to figure it out in the future. While the slight drinking problem I have has thrown me off course, I want to become a detective so I can look into her files and find the actual murderer.