The night she ran away, she came across a strange town called Riverdale. She couldn't shake the feeling that town gave her, so she decided to stay. She had no idea
what was in store for her. Between a new lover with pink streaks in her hair, to u...
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*trigger warning: description of panic attack YOUR POV
The snow crunches under Cheryl's boot as she steps up front. She is decorated with every shade of black possible, she looks like a fallen angel. A beautiful melody falls from her lips with her River Vixens harmonizing behind her. I fiddle with the sleeves of my long black dress to distract myself from the pain in my heart. The whole town is cluttered around the coffin of the once bouncy, lively girl; Midge. Everyone's heads are hung low and completely silent as the last few notes drip from Cheryl's lips. Once done, the redhead opens her mouth to speak.
"I also feel it's is my duty to say that like the Furies of Ancient Greece who ceaselessly pursue blood atonement when a crime has been committed, the Vixens and I vowed that we will not rest until those responsible for the murder of our sister is rightly punished!" She proclaimed, making bitter eye contact with Sheriff Keller.
Her speech lingered in the snowy air, no one knew what to say or what to do. Calmly, as if she hadn't just made a heated speech, Cheryl walked back to her group of cheerleaders.
:::::♥ ♥:::::
With heavy hearts, Betty, Archie, Veronica, Jughead, and I walked towards our cars after the burial. Archie pointed out Mrs. Klump crying, she looked so heartbroken. Like watching a movie unfold, we watched as Sheriff Keller approached her with condolences, only to be met with a harsh slap across the cheek. We were all startled by the sudden out burst of Midges mother. As we turned to continue walking, I saw Kevin run up to his father to embrace him. I felt bad for both of them, but I couldn't be sure how I felt about Sheriff Keller, there was too much going on.
:::::♥ ♥:::::
My back rested uncomfortably against the wooden chair in the station. While waiting for it to be my turn, I recalled how I got to this exact moment. I remember sitting in the diner with the core group, everyone silently staring at the food; no one had any appetite. I remember how Archie's phone revived a text and he quickly answered. I remember the look on his face when he gave us the news that everyone at the scene of the murder was ordered to be questioned at the station. Overall, I remember how scared everyone looked, through none of us did it, there is always that fear that something will happen in a situation like this.
"(Y/n) (L/n)?" The receptionist of the station called out, breaking me from my train of thought. This was it; my turn to be questioned. I slowly got up and walked to the room. On the way, I passed by Archie, who had just finished questioning. He looked distraught and angered.
"Sit down, please," the Sheriff said gruffly.
I cautiously sat in the chair across from him, my nerves were practically overflowing at this point. What if he asks about my parents? What if he asks about how I got here? What if he finds out about my past? My past makes me look so suspicious, oh, God! I'm going to get arrested! I had to breathe slowly to calm my rampant thoughts.
