*tw: mentions of blood and a dead body*
I opened my eyes to the sight of the plain white ceiling, very different from the ceiling back home. I couldn’t help but wheeze at the absurdity of my sudden homesickness. We’d been here for only a week. I groaned as I got out of my bed. I glanced at the door that led to Wim’s room. He could only enter or leave his bedroom through mine, which I highly appreciated, as there was a murderer among us who’d have to get through me to get to him. I didn’t want someone hurting him. The doors were electric and the police in their surveillance room could could control their locks. They automatcially locked at 10 pm every night, for curfew, and unlocked at 5 am in the morning. My alarm read 5.02 am.
My stomach growled. Man, I was hungry. I poked my head into my brother’s room, he was awake, sitting on his bed, his eyes hungrily watching a video on his police-monitored laptop. It was crazy what they could hack into. “Wim,” I called, and he glanced up at me.
“What?”
“How long have you been awake for?”
“Longer than you,”
I raised my eyebrow. “Wanna get off your laptop?”
“No,”
“Fair enough. I’m going to get something to eat. Want anything?” he shook his head vigorously, and my stomach growled again, it couldn’t wait. “Don’t leave this room,” I called warningly and closed the door. I hopped down the stairs and walked through the growingly familiar corridors.
I didn’t want this place to start feeling familiar, that wasn’t right. I wanted to go back home, quickly.
I strolled into the kitchen, what to eat? If I ate now, then I wouldn’t have to sit awkwardly at the dining table at breakfast with everyone else. I didn’t like most of the people here; the rich Flowerhest family were selfish and had a corrupt mindset, I didn’t like Strawb’s high and mighty, no nonsense attitude and the Durchdenwald officer gave me the shivers. Why was a police officer a suspect anyway?
I turned to look into the cabinets daydreaming.
It didn’t really matter, we were all here just because we lived in that stupid apartment building. I sighed, resting my head on the fridge door.
The fridge! I spun around, my mind on the chocolate milk I’d specifically asked for, that would be mine only. I opened the fridge, but my chocolate milk carton had disappeared. I rummaged through the cold items but it still wasn’t there. Did someone put it in the freezer? I tsked angrily and pulled open the bottom door.
A thick red liquid pooled out onto the floor, creeping its way to my slippered feet and staining the fluffy blue bunnies. The rotten stench of death hit my nose making my stomach bubble unhappily, and a clothed arm thudded to the floor. I froze; I was in the moment, my brain foggy and slow, trying to process what was before me. I gasped in shock, my mind clearing, and a scream ripped through my body.
I heard running, and the sunglassed man who barely spoke a word, Basil I think his name was, came running in. “What?”
I trembled, stepping away from the fridge so he could see. “WHY? IS THIS HAPPENING?” I screamed at him, my voice shaking as it grew in volume.
He placed his hands on my shoulders, needing them in an attempt to calm me. “Calm down,” I squeezed my eyes shut as more people entered the room, and I felt my heartbeat slowly fall.
Ugh! This was supposed to be all sweet and simple, find the murderer, go home. But, now, it had taken a dark turn.
A body was in the fridge… Who was that in the fridge?
I opened my eyes to see Strawb, Durchdenwald, Basil and three of the police officers standing by the fridge, from where I’d been pulled away to the far counter. Only three; the red-headed cop, the silent guy called Jim, or something along those lines, and the balding man in charge. But there was one missing, the angry-seeming blonde; Klaus.
“Oh, dear,” I heard the lady cop say. I glanced at her and watched as tears began to roll down her face. She mumbled something incoherent, hiding her face in her hands.
The angry blonde was still nowhere to be seen…
Realisation hit me like a train.
I stared down at the body that they’d hauled out of the freezer. The golden locks styled neatly, monotone pyjamas, the watch that had been polished until it gleamed even with the blood splatters. The dead police officer stared up at me, his eyes open yet unseeing. I could see my reflection in his blue orbs; my dark hair framing my face. But my expression was blank, all my fear had already been drained from me, replacedby cold apathy. Maybe I was in shock. I didn’t know.
I looked away from the stark-white, blood drained face, my head continuing to ache and spin at the repulsive sight.
"I'm going to my room," I said but none of them heard. I left and my mind wandering to my lost chocolate milk.
Half an hour later, the head police officer, Greg, practically dragged me out of my room. I looked at him angrily, pulling my arms away from his grip as he pushed me onto one of the sofas in the living room, where the rest of the suspects were waiting. He used his other arm to throw Wim beside me. I hugged my little brother, glaring at the bald man in disgust.
"Don't drag us along like we’re trash," I hissed.
Wim smirked at him, "Yeaha! Baldie!"
Greg glared at him, but marched out of the room without a word.
Everyone was staring at us… not us, just me. I was the one who found the body, so I was now something interesting to look at. I suppressed my laugh as I looked at each of their cold expressions, each hiding a different deeper emotion. Anger, doubt, confusion and fear. Oh, the fear ran deep within their eyes. Fear screamed at me, laughed at me, its dark twisted body engulfing me. All because I lived in the red-bricked apartment building with my family and had found the body.
Basil was the only one who wasn't looking at me. Basil didn't seem that bad of a guy. He rarely talked, and only spoke a lot if the situation called for it, which it never did. He must know I didn't kill the cop, right? I stared at him, wishing that he'd meet my eye, but he never looked up. I sighed, slumping into my seat and turning to the eyes that burnt into me the most. Strawb's eyes were ablaze, digging into me like I was the dirt beneath her feet.
I'd love to chide her, even if it would dig the hole I was in deeper. I was already a suspect just like the rest of them, it wouldn't hurt to have a little argument, to lighten up my mood.
"What?" I hissed in her direction.
Her lip curled and her eyes narrowed, on guard. That made me think, all the time I'd see her chatting away to Gila or Durchdenwald, but I'd never seen her smile. I wondered if I could break that haughty aura of hers.
"What?" I repeated, matching her scowl.
“Nothing,” she grimaced, running her hands through her wavy dark blonde hair.
I let out a small sarcastic laugh. What? Was she trying to back down when I’d only just started? “Is there something on my face?”
“Oh, yeah,” her eyes sparkled, she sat up, leaning forward as though she was examining my face, “Ugliness,”
“Oh really?” I smiled in annoyance, my anger flaring up, “Because the more I look at you, the more I want to throw up,”
Strawb’s mouth twitched, but it didn’t form into a smile. Her annoyance was heightening and it made my heart race giddily in my chest, filling my body with flares of adrenaline.
“What? Can’t take a little insult?” I growled out. “Shouldn’t be a hyporcite then,”
“Kid, play with people your own size. If you take a bite too big for you, you’ll be squashed like the bug you are,” she said, turning away with a bored expression on her face.
“Kid? Bug?” I cackled, she turned back to me “Do you really think I’m that much younger than you?”
“Bug,” she spat, and my heart soared, my body on fire. I stood up, glaring at her from where she sat a few metres away from me. She also stood up, looming over me by a few good inches.
“What are you gonna do, huh?” she seethed, “Whatcha gonna do?”
I smirked up at her, secretly moving my hand behind her back so I would be ready to grab her hair. “No, no, no,” I wagged my other hand’s index finger at her, “You’ve got it all mixed up. What are you going to do? Squash me like a bug?”
“Sure, and I’ll have fun doing it,” her hand made a grab for the collar of my shirt, and I made to grab her thick blonde hair, when someone blasted my eardrums with a whistle.
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