The One That Almost Got Away

My footsteps were thudding on the ground. The vibration pulsed through my body, as each foot slammed against the ground. I had to get to Mr. Marshall's office. I had to show him my new lead on who could have killed Lara. I stopped outside the familiar door, with the shiny new plaque saying John Marshall-School Counselor. The afternoon light gleamed off the newly placed trophy on the door. It must be hard moving to a new school and working out student's problems. My knuckles bounced against the door, I hoped for a voice to call out and beckon me in. A musky voice that seemed to be irritated called out.

"Come in!"

I slowly swung open the door. The usual scene was set before me. A generic office, with boxes scattered around, filled with certificates and junk. I saw a battalion sword on display behind his desk, he was fiddling with it when he heard me. Mr. Marshall swung around to face me, his young faced covered by his ruffled chestnut hair, glasses hanging onto the bridge of his nose. His face broke out into a warm smile.

"Why hello there Diana."

"Hiya Sir!" Excitement crept into my voice as I looked down at the papers in my hands, stepping forward to place them onto his desk.

"I found a new lead on who killed Lara. I think the case she was looking into was dangerous and the person responsible is this man," I pointed at the news article I had placed on his desk. My hands began to subconsciously fidget. He sat down slowly, leaning backwards, sighing.

"This man David Hale was a teacher at a school about 70 kilometers south of here. He had sexually abused students in the past, but no jail time was given. With Lara's 'hobby' of investigating, I think she got too involved and she was taken out by David to keep her quiet. So-". Mr. Marshall cut me off, staring at me over his glasses, something was in his stare but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

"You know Dee, there isn't much you can do about Lara's death," He looked down and rolled up his blue button up shirt's sleeves. Irritation crept into my chest.

"I don't want you to dig too deep otherwise you might be taken down too, why don't you leave the investigation to the police, I know she was your best friend but she died a month ago. The police are doing their best to-" I snapped. I couldn't take the pity in people's stares, they were crushing me.

"The police aren't trying hard enough, they're not getting anywhere! I thought you were on the same side as me! I thought you understood what I was going through! I thought you wanted to help me, that's why I came to you for help! But I guess you're just like everyone else, I'm going to keep investigating Lara's death until I find out who left her beaten, bloodied body in the cleaners cupboard!"

Tears sprung to my eyes as I remembered the way her body laid there, in a pool of blood. The vacant look in her eyes, tears dried while falling down her pained face. The tracks of blood showing her struggle. She was too young to die. She hadn't even finished high school; all her plans to become the world's greatest detective were washed away like the blood stains on the door.

Reality swirled into my vision. I was back in the traitor's office. I stepped forward snatching the papers off his desk. Something caught my eye, in one of the boxes.

"Dee I know you are still traumatized by seeing what you did. But it is not a good idea to dive any deeper into this case," Mr. Marshall warned, rubbing his eyes in frustration and fatigue.

I slowly walked towards the box, I peered in. A certificate in a pale gold fame stared back at me. But the name on the certificate was covered in Mr. Marshall's name tag. I reached in; Mr. Marshall's words became background noise. I moved the tag; I had to suppress a shriek. The name under the tag was David Hale. Everything around me seemed to spin, I couldn't stand straight. It all made sense. When Mr. Marshall first started teaching at this school was when David had disappeared. He had killed Lara. I saw my reflection in the mirror beside me. My face was twisted in pain, sorrow and disappointed. Hot tears crept down my face.