𝕯𝖆𝖒𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖉 ☽ 𝕒𝕙𝕤

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕰𝖑𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓

𝙵𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝙳𝚛𝚒𝚕𝚕 - 𝙼𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚎 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚣

☽

'Bye mom, bye dad,' I say as I walk out of the dining room towards the frownt door.

'Bye honey,' my mom says.

'Have a good day,' my dad shouts from down the hallway.

I've almost reached the door when Tate steps out, blocking me from stepping out.

'What do you want, Tate?' I ask, sighing at him.

He fidgets, putting his hands in his pockets.

'Look, Evie - I'm sorry about what happened last night but please, trust me, I had no idea who those kids were,' He says, his eyes becoming shiny, 'I promise.'

'I'm gonna be late for school,' I say, frustrated.

'Evie... please...' he begs.

'Go away, Tate,' I retort as I push past him. He doesn't come after me.

Maybe I'm being too hard on him, but those kids were adamant they knew him, and they seemed to have something pretty strong against him.

✧✧✧

The bell rings to signal the end of school. The students start to file out. I pack up my things and follow them. As I walk down the hallway, something I hadn't noticed before catches my eye.

A memorial, probably about a square metre in size hung up on the wall. In gilded letters at the top it reads : may their beloved souls rest in peace - Westfield High, 1994.

Below it are yearbook photos of several students, lined up in rows with their names and a sentiment underneath. What initially caught my eye was one of the students' pictures.

I look closer and identify the trademark bleached hair and heavy black makeup. There's no way. But this says... she's dead... but I saw her last night.

As I scan around I notice more of the kids from last night - the jock, the cheerleader... and it all starts to fall into place. It's like a jigsaw puzzle where all of the pieces fit together but the final picture doesn't make sense.

The bullet wounds - they were real.

This can't be happening.

I rush to the library to see if there are any records that can help me make sense of everything.

I walk in and see a man in a wheelchair manning the counter. He looks up from his computer as I burst through the door, clearly flustered.

'Do you know anything about- those kids... the kids that died here?'

'You mean the shooting?' He shakes his head and looks down, 'I get at least three or four of you sickos a yea-'

'No,' I say, 'I-it's not like that...'

He reaches under the counter and pulls out an old, faded newspaper article.

'Well, how about you take this and leave me the hell alone.'

I take the piece of paper from him and find a seat out of the way. I scan through the text. Massacre... westfield high... fifteen dead...

But that's not the answer I'm looking for. And just because I'm looking for it doesn't mean I want to find it. I hesitantly flip to the other side of the page, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm myself down.

There it is on the page.

In the centre of the page, there's a black and white picture of Tate. It's like he's staring at me. The headline reads suspect in school shooting dead.

What? That's not possible.

I look down to the name, hoping there's some kind of mistake, that the boy isn't Tate.

Tate Langdon

My head is spinning trying to make sense of what's going on. I pick up my bag and sling it over my shoulder, rushing through the double doors out of the library.

I practically run through the hallways, feeling suffocated imagining the walls closing in, trapping me within my own head.

When I finally reach the school gates, the cool air hits me and my thoughts stop moving so fast.

With everything that's happened since we moved here, it wouldn't be totally implausible - what am I thinking? Is this what it feels like to be crazy?

I run home as fast as I can, drawing in breath faster and faster as I come closer. I throw open the door.

'Mom? Dad?' I shout, sobbing, frantically checking all the rooms downstairs, but I find no one. 'Tate!' I scream, 'Tate... I know what you did - please, I need answers...'

I almost fall over several times because I can't see through the blur of tears.

I stumble upstairs and check my dad's office, he might be working but I really need to talk to someone and make sense of this.

I'm breathing heavily and I'm starting to feel dizzy. When I reach his office, the door is unlocked, and I swing it open. And then I see something that just makes everything worse.

My dad is sitting on the couch with Moira, the old house-maid on top of him. Oh my god. He sees me and scrambles out from under her.

"Uhh... Evie... Wait. I'm sorry..." he says as I slam the door.

✧