Grande Suicide- Ariana Grande fic

Chapter Five

The next day, as most people did, we headed to the pool at 10:00, one hour after opening. We managed to grab a couple of sun beds, and in my ugly swimming costume, I could tell almost every boy was looking at Ariana. Well, if I was a boy and wasn't related to her, I would be also. She had her 'hair' (a.k.a realistic wig) in a high ponytail, an anklet with charms around her ankle (obviously) and was wearing her favourite red bikini, which flattered her skinny figure. Literally all the boys were staring with their mouths open. When they talked/flirted -mostly flirted- to/with her, Ariana brushed them away simply, saying she was spending time with her sister, which made me smile. The only person I think she didn't brush off was a girl named Amie Riave, who ironically was also wearing an anklet with four leaf clovers on it, and a bikini, but hers was purple; she wore her hair up in a messy bun. For once, Ariana actually seemed happy. She had her moments with her phone, but she seemed genuinely happy. But, that didn't stop her doing what she did the next day.

Suicide, they said. Well, what else could be the reason that I found my sister dead at the foot of the A block coated in a pool of her own blood? Her body was so badly broken, the only explanation was that she had jumped. Of course. We were at the top of the building. Amie was bawling, as was I, and Mom failed at keeping tears back. We had to go home straight away. Most importantly, we had to find the reason of her death. We promised to keep in touch with Amie for any details, although she could look in magazines and the newspaper-but even they might not be true. Forgetting the wigs, we ran through the crowd of press that had somehow found out already about the incident, and slammed the door.

"Who would make her do this?" I shouted, pulling shut the curtains angrily. Suddenly, Mom looked at meHer phone." We whispered in unison.

I dug through her hand luggage bag and fished out her phone. It had been passcode locked only recently.

"You know, if I had a passcode lock, it would be your name." I remembered her saying last Christmas when everything was okay. I quickly typed my name. It worked. I remembered she had winced when Instagram was mentioned, so that's where I started out. Five accounts stood out for commenting horrible things multiple times: @ewriana, @sarahf4fs, @arianaisafake, @grossgrande, and @qutiepea. The most recent person to stand up to her was @karina.lolmg stating that they were all just jealous, but that was just one comment in a crowd of hate from the five suspects.

The comments were already rolling in about her death.

pennyopal:RIP angel xxx

sariahomq ilysm and obviously you didn't know me, but I'll miss you so much and I can't imagine a world without you xx

riparianagrande -memorial page for Ari here. RIP my gorgeous angel

grossgrande yay finally my life is better :)

lolita_mae_loves_food_lol miss you bbs met you at choice awards best day xx

amelieoqm ily rip xx and @grossgrande shut it no one cares she is loved by many you are evil I can't believe you said that !

They all seemed relatively nice, until @grossgrande commented. I clicked on her profile...twenty people were following that bitch. Their bio said they were @tippytiptips-so maybe that was why they were following them. It also mentioned that they converted and lost 600 follows. Good. I decided, using Ariana's account, I would direct message the haters, all with the same message. The person under the user name '@grossgrande' was the first to reply, as I had expected.

arianagrande As you may know, Ariana died yesterday. Death is horrible, considering she was so young, so vulnerable, yet you decide to hate still? She has family, friends-we're all in tears. If you're wondering who's talking to you via her account, it is her sister, Kerry-Anne. I don't want to intimidate, I just want to ask why. I also know you could be charged with murder, along with other accounts.

grossgrande I'm sorry

arianagrande it's good that you are sorry, but I just want to know why.

grossgrande okay well ever since I was young I was ugly fat unpopular...you know. So when I first found out about Ari, I technically internet stalked her. I followed all her pages, read about what she ate and tried to be just like her. I dressed and done my hair and makeup like her. But I got bullied for copying, and then I thought that the root of my problem was her, so then I decided to hate.

arianagrande ok I understand. Although I'm her twin sister, I don't look like her: we're twins as in age really. I'm just like you, except I don't hate. How old are you?

grossgrande fifteen, sixteen on the 18th of September.

arianagrande thankyou very much. Obviously the police want to investigate the case, but they've given us permission to do some of the work. I don't want this as much as you don't, but you may have to go to court.

grossgrande OMG I didn't think it was that serious!!! I'm so upset&sorry. :'(

I left the conversation at that, and just as I put down Ariana's phone Mom ran in, clutching an women envelope.

"Kerry-Anne, we need to do something." Her eyes were red from crying.

"What happened?"

Mom burst into tears again. I'd never seen her cry so much, so I comforted her. She told me that she didn't earn enough money with her job to afford the house. The bill this month was $200,000. She'd earn't $10,000, but that wasn't near enough. We'd only be able to afford the house by giving reluctant tours, and maybe even opening the pool to some of the public. I agreed, I didn't want to make our house public as much as Mom, but I wanted to keep it, so we'd have to settle with that.

We applied for an advert in the newspaper, tickets costing $1000, $1,500 for a ticket that entitled you for a half an hour swim in Ariana's pool. Obviously we had a lot of takers, and soon our week was booked up. We had enough for the house almost in an instant. Since we were so tightly booked, we decided to do a first come first served basis. The first person to book was a girl under the name of Kariah Winsey. We took twenty people per hour, and if you had paid for the pool there were separate tours that entitled you to that less often. A queue started to build up around 9:15, and we took names as people gathered in the hallway 45 minutes later. Penelope Swathes. Kariah Winsey. They had bought separate tickets but had come together in the same package, each with long locks and designer clothing. I began in the living room, here's where Ariana always sat, blah-de-blah; people took pictures but we'd roped off the area because we didn't want strangers touching, and maybe taking, all our stuff.

We'd finished the tour and everyone had flocked off with their pictures and whatever, but one person remained. Kariah. I approached her slowly, and stopped next to her.

"Why are you still here?" I questioned. That's when she turned around. She was crying, her face red, her eyes wide.

"I'm so sorry." She wept.

"Really, you have nothing to be sorry for, we're all mourning for Ari and-"

"No. No, you don't understand."

"What?"

"I killed Ariana. I was one of the haters."

And suddenly I was face to face with a murderer.