"It's not our fault."
WHEN A GROUP OF TEENS ARE INVOLVED WITH THE MURDER OF A FELLOW STUDENT AT A SUMMER CAMP, THEY GET THE BLOOD ON THEIR HANDS, TRUST IS LOST, VULNERABILITY IS SHOWN, AND MAYBE JUST MAYBE SOMEONE CLOSE WANTS TO SOLVE THE MYSTERY.
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The saying is that one bad apple can spoil the bunch, one diverse fruit and then the group looses its simplicity an freshness.
More like society today, we all strive for perfection and then we all don't want to look the same with the inevitable disapproval of others of course.
Blair Reyes posed in front of her mirror her medium shirt just not fitting her right in her mind of course she and every other teenage girl with mocking glass that shows appearance.
She tucked and untucked the time was now 8:30 AM which meant she had been doing this for a good 15 minutes.
Sighing at her inability to look ideal she just leaves it tucked and focuses on the detail.
It was a baby blue t-shirt with red wrapped around the sleeve holes and collar.
The shirt read "All about that Fun in the sun" then it continued with more information about the camp.
She hated it, it was cringe worthy and beyond embarrassing but this year she was a camp counselor and she had to wear the colors with pride.
The shirt hangs in the closet all worn and tattered, dirt kisses it boldly while, if you look closely you can see specks of blood.
It taunted her days after the incident then weeks, and soon enough another week until she decided that it had to go.
With the recent grilling from the officers lately she couldn't help but to feel nervous.
So there she was on 6th street with a plastic bag and a grimace on her face. Her sneakers lied on the ground with every step in bound.
And then to the garbage it went not without burning it of course and the once annoying letters that spelled "All about that fun in the sun"
Read "Alison" rearranged.
-prolouge ends here- A new story Feeling nostalgic Yet?
