Past. Present. Future? [Wattys 2015 ]

Chapter 5- What Rhymes With Muddy ...

It's been a long day without my friend
And I'll tell you all about when I  see  you again .

We've come a long way from where we   began
Oh I'll tell you all about when  I see 
you again.

The song See you again started playing on my phone.  I set my phone alarm for 4:55.

I wanted to wake up earlier than normal this morning because I wanted to run to the nearby newsstand and get the Localized newspaper,  to get some answers, to the question I was afraid to ask yesterday. I presumed the whole case about Martin would be  front page news.

I turned on my side and stretched out my hand to put the alarm off.

Getting up from under the covers and staring into oblivion, just thinking;

How could someone murder him, he wronged no one in such a way that some  sick  demented person would go and do wrong onto him .

He was so loving,  he was honest , he was just Martin.

He had so much to look forward to.

It wasn't his time

No one should be exposed to the cruelty of this world in such a way.

No one should die that young. 

Picturing my Mom made me feel a form of comfort , though having never seen her. The photos of her that filled the house, created a pretty vivid picture of the beauty and grace she held.

"Mom please take care of him up there,  he's a good guy, I promise , you would have loved him". 

A cold gush of air sent a shiver down my back. I'm no believer in ghost now.  That had  to be my imagination because I didn't open any windows and my door was closed.

I turned my head towards the window looking out towards the street,  close.  The window at my desk was strangely enough wide open. 

I don't remember opening it up last night,  might have been my Dad.

I stood up to go close it. The cold air blew in my face and waked me up like no alarm ever could.

My eyes were drawn to something on my tabletop. A folded newspaper. The Localized,  Friday 23 January 2015.

It was today's newspaper.

My Dad is the best.

I walked in and sat on my bed.  Unfolding the newspaper,  I wasn't surprised about the headline.

The front page article read:

Pool Suicide Back Strokes  To Pool Homicide.

There is twist in Martin Mayfields case. 
We spoke to Detective Ed  Holmes in a recent interview. 
New founded evidence in the case lead police to realized  that Martin was murdered. He had been drugged and drowned in the pool.

Autopsy revealed scratch marks on his neck.  Bruises on his body  showed that a struggle took place between the victim and the murderer .

There were traces of   Magnesiumhydrochloride which is found in modern drugs, that are used to make people dizzy and lose consciousness .
Some items belonging to the victim are  missing.
The police have confirmed that they have suspects but can't reveal any of them. At this stage,  police can't reveal more information as the murder case is still under investigation.

The police have urged anyone who may have  any information to report it as soon as possible.

We will report if there is any other news that may  occur . ¶

"Items? "  It...  it can't be the hoodie the and necklace it just can't be. I opened the bedside table drawer and the hoodie was still there with the arrow-necklace.

I've got to find out who sent them. Somebody sent this to me for a reason. Reasons that I don't know or I may never want to know. No one can anyone find these things .
No one.

05:17

I stood up to get ready,  better "three hours" to early than a minute late,  oh thy Shakespeare hath placed thy wisdom onto me.

I walked to the bathroom when I felt my a searing pain when I lightly bumped my right leg against my bathroom door . 

This is ridiculous that pain ain't normal.

My right leg, had a blue bump right under my knee,  and there where some scratches on my leg.  No wall can leave such marks.

I had no memory of how I got this or when.This was starting to freak me out. I took to a shower with the hope to clear my mind.

I finished up the long,  hot shower and got dressed for school.

Where's my darn shoe.  Losing stuff is a daily norm for me, dad always says it's one of the many traits I got from my Moms side of the family.

I knelt down and looked under my bed.  I found my shoe,  but found something peculiar too.  My running shoe were all muddy. It wasn't that muddy after my run yesterday.

Pulling out the shoes from under the bed,  I didn't recognize the redish mud.

I threw them under the bed and put on my school shoes.

Unlocking my phone I realized I got a message :
Hello hun  the funeral is this Sunday and I would love if you could prepare a eulogy.  I know it's Friday and it's quite late to ask you. But Martin would have loved it if you spoke at the funeral.
Have a nice day and stay strong Roselin.

I had a lot of time on my hands. So I went and sat at my desk , I had a perfect view of  the neighbors  lushes back lawn.

With a black pen and notepad I started writing.

No words created by man could closely come to  express the  melancholy and  loneliness that I've felt since Martins death. 

The blank page with only his two syllable name stared at me I couldn't lay my heart on the of paper.

Staring out of my window I saw something strange in the neighbour  back yard.

Someone outside lying on the grass.

A light breeze played with his chocolate brown hair. I sat there just looking at him, enchanted by him.

He then stood up and our eyes met. I was  enchanted by  these piercing blue eyes that stared back at me. There was something about his eyes , they held so much mystery, like a sad story not yet written,  not yet told, not yet heard.

I heard a someone shouting "Bro get in here". "I'm coming Trev " he shouted .  He nodded his head to his right,  as if telling me we'll stare again. He broke the stare turned around and went inside.

Yes we'll stare again, the book I have to read.

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