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D

August 2012

Sirens wailed. Paramedics and police offers with bellies too large rushed around trying to save what was already lost. In recent weeks, they had made countless visits to this property. Deep down, everyone knew this would be their final visit to Roseburry's pride and joy.

"Oxygen tank!" A paramedic shouted and a new flurry of movement began. In and out people ran trying to find any clues. The small town's media was already on the case and half of the police force present was busy restraining them in the front.

The tank arrived but it was too late. The entire crew was too late. There was nothing they could've done to save the life of an innocent girl.

A lot of things were set into motion that evening. The highest priority however was the funeral of one late Malia Evans.

Or perhaps, let us rephrase that. A lot of things had already been set into motion the day Malia made the indirectly fatal decision. If you asked around in Roseburry for confirmation, everybody would tell you the same thing. Almost everyone called the romance between Malia and Declan.

But what no one did call was one girl, lying face up at the bottom of a pool, with a bottle of pills in her hand. No blood. No signs of a struggle. Just one girl who didn't deserve half of what she got in the last few weeks of her downward spiralling life.