The bell for break rung, shrieking from wherever it was. The aftermath of the sound was the screeching of chairs and tables against the floor. That was followed by the surge in chatter as our teacher began to shout for us to copy down the assignment when we return. I remained at my seat, staring blankly at the board.

The images of yesterday flashed behind my eyes. I almost choked on my saliva, hunching over as I coughed. With my chest rattling, I tried to stifle the bangs against my chest that forced its way out of my mouth. I rested my head against the desk as the chatter continued, the heat of their prying eyes sliding off my blistery skin.

Breathe, stop embarrassing yourself.

Soon, the coughing stopped. I took in a breath of fresh air, my eyes already watering. I licked my lips.

"Ada left yesterday. Everybody is just going, guy this one no be small something." I heard one of my classmates, Peter, say a few seats away.

"Of course na. Who wants to stay in this place while a murderer is on the loose, you know no say nobody would want to end up in a pool of their own blood by next morning." Collins remarked.

"Everyone here is just a scaredy cat please, no one fit kill me. It is he who dips their hand in blood that would be killed the same way, so me I am free."

"That isn't how it works." Their banter began to recede, their retreating footsteps slightly ringing in the silence that had descended over the class. I raised my head up and scanned my surroundings. No one was in sight.

I looked out the window, the glass overlooking a vast garden and farm that my school owned. The lush trees grew up to the sky, broad branches stretching out as the ground was padded with green blades of grass that swayed in the breeze.  A memory settled over me once again.

"We will return to that house whether we like it or not. It is better that the woman is dead, at least now you can move on."

Leaving had been my step father's initial plan after the...incident but of course, mama would always have something against the good decisions he made. The urgent need to bathe overwhelmed me, the feeling of my body caked with blood spurring another heavy breath.

The pounding of blood intensified in my ears, the near roar of my pulse also simmering underneath the surface. The textbook that was spread across the table was now wet. I moved to look at the board again which was covered with mathematical equations that could barely register in my head.

If mummy were still alive she would be disappointed in you.

Our midterms was starting next week and my mind could barely understand what I was forcing myself to read. The thoughts of mummy's body rushed my mind once again. Grief burst within me, tightening my chest as the heat conjured to life inside of me, making it difficult to breathe, everything within me twisting with discomfort.

The librarian's face popped up. The reason behind which that he kept all those pictures was unknown to me. My blood stirred, I had never liked watching gory movies or looking at newspapers in fear of seeing things like this. The fact that the pictures each had exactly the same injuries mummy had .....

That doesn't mean they're even of recent, don't overdo it.

But this could be a clue, you could find the killer.

Find the killer? Don't forget that your still a small town girl who's only source of inspiration has turned to dust. Best thing to accept it and move on.

Accept it and move on? Are you even hearing yourself?!

What else can you do? Raid all the homes of 'likely' and get them to admit who did it?

It could be the librarian...

But would he let you go so easily if he truly was the killer?

He could just have wanted to have mercy on us but would be planning something far worse for us.

Various thoughts sped through my head. A searing pain began to jab at my skull, making it impossible to think straight as I forced down the drawl of thoughts. I gripped the doll in my laps, which was almost completely covered by the blazer that was laid across my laps

None of this would be happening if that idiot hadn't killed mummy.

Don't. Things never work out the way we want them, you know that. Your dad's not here, your mom's dead, expect more pain to come your way from now on. Some people were born to suffer while some were born to enjoy. It is simply the way of life.

I could feel the stinging of tears. I quickly dumped the doll in my bag as the sound of chatter flooded my ears. I rose from my seat as I noticed people  walking into class. Staring at the floor, I held the bag tightly to my chest as I strutted past the others until I entered the locker room. The jarring smell of sweat and body odour lined the hall almost filled with people, strong perfumes barely halting the intense aroma of perspiration.

I took a turn and I was about to pass the toilet when I collided with someone. I stumbled back, almost loosing my footing. I regained my composure, holding onto the wall before I realized that the bag had fallen out of my hands.

  A gruff sound escaped the person and I forced my eyes to meet their eyes. The librarian stared back at me with narrowed... teary eyes?

Was he crying?

The thought left me as I realized the doll had fallen out of my zip and onto the floor. Embarrassment rose within me as I knelt down, averting my gaze before I picked it up. A sharp inhale followed after in the silence and the next few words detered me from what I wanted to do.

"Who gave you that?" My eyes snapped up and his eyes were latched onto the doll, almost burning it with his brooding gaze. My chest tightened as I felt the warmth rise up to my cheeks. Shame coaxed me as I almost chucked it inside my bag.

Yeah, let everyone know that you're so clingy of the past that you're only lifeline is a stupid doll.

Anyone reasonable would understand that.

Sure, we'll know until the next awards day  comes along.

I immediately turned and almost scrambled away, fleeing the tensed surroundings that wanted to encase me. My breath began to catch in my throat as I saw some boys staring at me. I forced my gaze back to the ground as their whispers followed me until I entered back into my classroom. I quietly led myself to my usual seat at the back, the cooling systems making me shiver slightly under the intense cold.

See, if he were a murder he would have killed you at that moment.

But he's in public he couldn't have possibly done it then.

Sure.....

No one can be trusted.

I exhaled, the statement only gained more weight, almost stealing the air out of my lungs.

No one can be trusted.

Word Count: 1221
Chapter Word count: 16438
I want to thank God for giving me the Grace to write this. So, I think we're nearing the climax of the story. So, how was it?

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