Murder at School

Back to square one

I stepped off of the bus and onto the pavement. It was Thursday. Four days after the murder. Police were still enquiring about where I was at the time. I didn't want to go to school: I was losing all my friends and I was being blamed for it. The only reason why I decided to go in? Emerald. I'm worried about her. And I want the truth.
I began walking down the path, twisting and turning around the houses towards the school. My heart was pounding; my head was racing. Would my plan work? Finally the school was in my sight: the blue gate only a hundred meters or so away.
I swiftly turned through the gate, then paced parallel to the old brick walls of the maths block. A couple of other people were also around the school. The wind pushed against me; it was picking up. Clouds blocked the sun and made the sky look a pale grey.
I reached form and plonked my heavy bag on the table: Tazmin and Saffron were in their usual spaces at the back of the room; Emerald was nowhere to be seen. Usually I don't like to ask them anything, but I decided to make an exception.
"Guys, do you know where Emerald is?" I asked, as kindly as I could manage.
"Yes, why? Are you trying to make new friends after what happened with the new girl?" Saffron smirked.
I shook my head. "Where's Emerald?" I repeated, firmly.
"A while ago she said she was going to the toilet," she sighed, leaning back in her chair.
"How long ago?" Could something have happened?
"A while ago." I rolled my eyes at them and left, heading to the canteen toilets. I know Emerald was forced to murder Brooklyn-that much is obvious-but by who? And why?
The worst part is that it could literally be anyone now-heck-it could even be someone outside of school. I pushed the silver handle on the door, shivering as memories of last tear came flooding back: inside was a huge pool of blood. Sticking out from under the farthest stall was a thin leg, attached to a pretty slip on shoe. I felt sick, for I knew who it was: Emerald. Tapping the stall door open, I revealed the horrendous scene. Emerald was just...laying there, her throat slit. Then I went to pull out my phone and gaged, noticing the red blotches on my hand from the door handle. I knelt down in the blood and checked her pulse.
Nothing.
I was freaking out. What should I do? Whoever was forcing Emerald to become a murderer has silenced her and-I froze. Did they find out about our conversations? Did I cause this?
Then I began scrambling around inside Emerald's pockets: if they texted Emerald at all her phone would be proof (and proof I didn't do it). In the end, she didn't have it. I decided that either she'd not taken it to school for whatever reason or her murderer had taken it. However, I found an envelope with four words on it: halloween, Christmas, new year, easter. Instantly I realise that the only one with a capital letter was 'Christmas'-my name.
I stuff it into my pocket and wash my hands before leaving and calling the police. For the second time this week. Once they arrived, there was a crowd of other school kids that had come to see what the sirens were about. My legs were still caked in blood and the bottom of my blazer was now a deep crimson colour.
"What happened, Christmas?" I heard someone behind me call. I recognised the voice before I turned. Alexander. I gestured to the stretcher that was being carried through the crowds, blood dripping from the edges. Alex looked horrified and gasped.
"W-who? E-Emerald?" he stuttered.
I nodded "yeah-her throat was slashed open. And I found the body first...again." He gently put his arm around my shoulders, protectively, and I smiled up into his kind eyes. Then the registration bell rang out.
I turned and gave Alex a quick hug back before linking my arm through his and resting my head on his shoulder as we began parting from the crowd. "Christmas!" a stern voice called out. It was police constable White, with his fellow policeman trailing behind him. Alex and I turned to face them. "Can you come with us."
"Now?" He nodded; I looked at Alex, apologetically.
"I'll come with you," he offered, but constable White rejected it, saying that he needed to speak to me alone about private matters.
I sighed, and said "see you round," to Alex, who said his goodbyes to all of us and slipped away. Then I followed the two tall and intimidating policemen into the empty canteen.
"Now," constable White began. "I would very much like to know your actions this morning between about six to nine. I presume you have a solid alibi?" I could sense something in his voice. Sarcasm perhaps? Evidence was building up against me: I'd been the first on the scene of both murders and so far I was the only one without an alibi. And they clearly believed it was me.
"I got the early bus-I-I needed to talk to Emerald about something." God I sound so suspicious!
"About what, exactly?" he interrupted.
Should I show them the texts? Will they believe me then?
"I-I found out that she was the person that murdered Brooklyn."
"Really?" he asked, his brows raised. "How?"
"It's a long story, but basically the power of deduction, like you, but I also had the help of knowing it wasn't me."
"Do you have any proof?"
"Yes," I pulled out my phone to show them the texts as I explained about how she was forced to commit the murder, triumphantly. If they're going to assume it's me, I'll prove them wrong. They read through the messages and asked me a handful of questions that I answered.
"Well, thank you for showing this to us," the policemen handed me my phone back and let me go to lessons.
I was so happy that I was officially not prime suspect, or on the suspect list, for that matter. But now we had one problem. We had no clues to follow from now.
We were back to square one.