Murder at School

Emerald

The next morning we carried out our plan. As soon as Summer and I got to school, and in from the rain outside, I texted the group chat to say so. Instantly I got several replies from the others saying that they were also here and that they're just coming.
I glanced over at Summer: now was were we split up. "Go on," she beckoned. "What're you waiting for?" I didn't know what I was waiting for: am I stalling?!
"Summer, do you honestly believe it's her?" I sounded so desperate-I was ready to believe anything else than the truth. And I was shocked by that. I hardly knew Emerald, so why didn't I want it to be her?
"Well," she paused. "I never expected it to be her-she's way too sweet-but based on evidence...well... But it was the same thing last year, right?"
I nodded, solemnly. "I suppose so," I muttered as I turned the handle. It was pathetic that I'd ever believed she was too sweet, that I thought it would all change if I didn't want it to be true. Now I realised why I felt so shocked: I'd concentrated on the idea that it'd been Tazmin and Saffron. Since I already loathed them I guess it was easier for me to imagine them being murderers.
I opened the door and slipped over to Emerald, whose golden hair was curled around her shoulders and neck. Practically no one else was in form. "Emerald?" She looked up at me. Although I am rather small in height, at this point I still towered over her.
"Yeah?"
"Er..." Don't stutter, don't stutter I thought. "Can I talk to you outside?" Her eyes suddenly widened. What was that? I couldn't put my finger on it. I was expecting her to question me, but instead she got up and made her was to the door, twisting round the tables. She didn't speak.
Outside everyone else was already there. I could sense her nervousness. Guilty conscience? I wondered.
"Emerald?" Hartness began, soothingly, yet with an edge in her voice. Emerald nodded slightly in response, stepping back slightly. "Can we ask you some questions?"
Emerald didn't answer. Nor shake her head. Nor nod. I noticed Summer trying to catch my eye, so I subtly shook my head: no way on earth was I asking her. None of us wanted to. "Look, Emerald," Ivy broke the silence that had already lasted too long. "We really need you to give us an honest answer. Please. We don't truly believe that you're capable of what we're enquiring about...but," she took a deep, long breath and looked straight into Emerald's green eyes.
"Did you kill Brooklyn?"
Emerald's face slipped then. I knew she'd been keeping her true emotions under wraps, but currently she couldn't. She began squirming under the pressure: she couldn't cope. Her face started off shocked, then changed and became scared. My heart was saying that this was mean to put her through this; my head was saying it's only logical. By the power of deduction we'd worked out that it was her. Now we just needed a confession.
"Brooklyn was a good person, what did you have against her?"
She shook her head, which she held in her hands. She was shaking, so I put my hand on her shoulder. She glanced up and looked into my eyes. She looked so vulnerable and somehow innocent that I felt awful. I was going to say it's alright, but suddenly something changed. Emerald suddenly stood up straight, her expression confident.
"As if it was me-you know nothing!" she cried before turning back to form and storming off. It was probably supposed to make us believe she wasn't guilty, but it did the opposite. The way she said as if made me feel even more sure that it was her, but... You know nothing? What if we were missing something?
Then Tazmin and Saffron pushed past us, sniggering. "Guess it must be tough to know that even Emerald can push you around!" they laughed before entering form. What was that? I thought. Why did Emerald suddenly change character?
We all looked at one another: we had been wrong, and our confrontation had failed. Now what do we do?
Later that evening, I was sat on my bed when my phone vibrated, with its lights flashing. It was a text from Emerald: two words. Watch out.
I pulled a face: we needed answers.
Why? I replied, my fingers shaking with nerves. What does she mean? Watch out or she'll kill me? Or all of us? Surely not?
I had so many questions, and therefore awaited the arrival of her next text impatiently. It said that she was typing for what seemed like forever, but eventually a text popped up. I did it.
I assumed she meant she was the murderer, but I didn't need to ask her to clarify that since the next text was: I killed Brooklyn.
I had so many emotions: anger, betrayal, relief, confusion... The list was endless. I know, why? I typed.
I can't say.
Yes, you can, I insisted. Why was she protesting? Of course she could say! Besides, I didn't see how anyone would know what she'd said, so why does it matter? Is she just concerned about the police finding out?
No, you don't understand. I can't.
What don't I understand? Five minutes passed, and I'd gotten no reply so I gave up asking, and instead switched to asking: did you want to? And then immediately clarified what I meant by adding: kill her?
After a long pause she began typing again. Then came the reply.
No. I could imagine her sitting on her bed, her phone in her petite, shaking hands, crying uncontrollably. And it was because of me. And I hated myself for it.
Why? Please tell me-you can trust me.
Don't you see? I can't. I'm so sorry. And with that she went offline.