Chapter 1, I got this inspiration when some red paint was splattered along the wall.
Only a few if us, me and my friends, know the truth about what happened to the cleaner; Ms. Adams. But if you asked us we wouldn't tell you because we made a deal, no one knows the truth. But we have decided to write it down. And here it is, the story of how a cleaner's murder changed our lives...
Me and Suzie walked to room 24 where our detention was being held. Our other friends; Jessica and Martha were being kept back too. Upon arrival we discovered we four were the only ones with a detention. Mrs. Stewart wasn't there so we went in and sat down in our usual places. It was silent, until Martha began shrieking and flailing her hands wildly in the air. We rushed to her seat and followed her horrified stare, on the wall in a little pool was a red liquid.
"Martha calm down! Someone will hear us!" Hushed Jessica.
"It might just be paint or someone's spilt juice," suggested Suzie, rolling her auburn hair into a messy bun. We knew it wouldn't be juice, no one was crazy enough to eat or drink in this class. Miss. Stewart was like an bird, she had a hunched back, and grey hair dragged into a sophisticated style. But her scariest features were her small beady eyes with intense vision, her little hands that had sharp nails like talons, and her mouth that was always primed with a degrading comment and usually twisted into an evil smirk. Martha was practically in tears. Suzie walked across the room, and began crawling around near the door.
"What are you doing Suzie?" I quizzed. She grinned at me in a way that made me anxious, not wanting an answer.
"I'm doing what they do in those crime shows, you know, looking for more blood," she emphasized the last word. Blood. It was the least likely thing, near impossible, but Suzie was always one to follow through with ideas.
"Is it really blood? I mean, like, real blood from a human or animal," Martha shuddered at the thought. Jessica shook her head with a grin playing at her lips. Martha always believed Suzie, as if she knew what she was on about, half the time it was stuff she had seen on the television.
"Don't worry Martha, Suzie is just playing detectives," Jessica snickered. Suzie looked up at the comment and ran back to where we were.
"Well what else is it, I don't see you with any ideas. I mean, paint I thicker and juice; well anyone who drinks in here has a death wish." Suzie pushed forward the blood idea, making it more and more convincing. But it was absurd, or was there really a murderer on the loose?
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