So he called you Darcey?” Katherine screeched over the canteen table, loud enough to drown out the other noises.
“Mmhmm” I replied, as I stabbed my salad aimlessly, shovelling another piece into my mouth.
“Really?!?!” Ciara asked her voice high and the excitement in her squeal annoyed me.
“Yes” I replied and stared down at the lettuce and tomatoes, widening my eyes to express my irritation. They didn’t pick up on it. I looked up and then they both giggled, simultaneously, a high pitch shriek. I’d had enough of their ceaseless talking and questions and their hyped up little giggle every time Tyler walked past, actually every time his name even came up.
It had been a day since the incident, and I’d accidently slipped the fact that he had said my name. I didn’t think too much of it, or at least that is what I told the girls. Deep down, it really intrigued me. How did he known my name? Well, he was in my classes so he would listen to my name on the register…maybe. It wasn’t too big of a deal but … still a little part of me was worried and interested, at the same time. Something was … different yet I couldn’t put my finger on it. I had a suspicion he didn’t listen to my name in class.
“I need to go” I said, and stood up. They both looked up from their meals and tilted their heads.
“Why?”
“I just do.” Again, not very good socializing.
“OK…see you” they replied and I walked away. I sighed. Even my friends were getting on my nerves.
There was only one more lesson after lunch but I thought I’d miss it. They won’t miss me. It was a pretty normal occurrence for me to just skip lessons, and Katherine and Ciara always covered for me.
I snuck out to the field where the boys played football. I squinted in the sunlight and made out the silhouettes. Luckily no teachers were around, so I knew exactly how to get out. I walked around the perimeter of the football pitch, spotting a few people I knew and waved. Then I saw Tyler. He stopped, dead in his tracks, the ball coming towards him and stared over, dazed. I smiled then walked on. My blonde hair fell over my shoulder and obscured my vision. Even though I couldn’t see Tyler, I knew he was staring at me. I shook my head and walked to the fence. There was a hole I'd already made, so I quickly shimmied through it when no one was looking and sprinted down the road until I was out of the view of the school. Then I slowed down.
On the whole walk home, something bugged me. The fact that I hadn’t killed Lafferty bugged me. Logic dictated that I had killed him, with my gun and my bullets. But there was a spare bullet left over. So I couldn’t have. I’d run through the possibilities last night, millions of them. Maybe I’d put three into the barrel. Maybe I didn’t shoot the grass. Maybe I was going mad. No, all of them weren’t possible. The only thing that could have happened was someone else killed him. But I’d seen the way the glass had smashed. The bullet went straight from the house! And the bang was too loud for it not to be close. So someone had to be in the house with me. I stopped in my tracks and made a split second decision. Turning a corner, I headed straight for Bourton Drive.
I returned to the house at 1:50pm and ducked through the hole I’d made last night. This house was still as creepy as yesterday; just now it seemed slightly brighter. Mainly because the sun was shining.
I slowly walked up the steps, careful of my surroundings. The stairs still creaked and the wind still whistled through the shell of a house. I went upstairs into the bedroom I was in last night. The window was still smashed and I could see the hole I’d made in the ground. I had definitely shot there last night then. No signs of anyone else in this room. I made my way into the master bedroom, next door. This is where I’d heard the rats and everything last night. I entered cautiously, slightly scared of the rats or rodents in this room. Ugh. I shivered again and I looked around the room. Someone had been there, that was obvious. The fine layer of dust that had settled on the floor boards, had been disrupted by footprints and the moth eaten, lice infested furniture had been pushed against the back wall. I was taking a big risk coming back here so soon. I guess it says something about the agency's discretion that the police hadn't been here yet. Or the police were stupider than i thought. I crept over to the window. It was still framed with ragged curtains, but one of the boards that replaced the glass had been removed, revealing a gap that was just big enough for a sniper rifle. It made me even more nervous now that I knew for definite that I hadn't killed Lafferty. I wanted to stay longer, maybe lift some finger prints, but through the gap in the window I saw yet another police car drive up in front of the Lafferty’s house. This alone would not have worried me, but the officers inside got out of the car and began to walk towards the house. The house that I stood in.
For the third time in that house, I took the stairs two at a time. I hurried through the kitchen and out the back door, but my coat snagged on the broken glass panel. I turned to free myself, tugging at the material. It ripped free in my hands, stained red. There was blood on the glass, a big smear of crimson across each of the jagged shards. Except it wasn’t my blood, I wouldn’t have been so careless. I took a knife from my ankle and chipped off a few flakes of the dry blood into an evidence bag. I carried both of these with me always. It was standard protocol for a TAG agent. As the front door of the decrepit house creaked open I ran silently through the overgrown garden, shoving the now sealed evidence bag into the pocket of my trousers. I slid through an opening in the broken down fence and slipped quietly down the back alley to the next street over.
