The Carter Hollow Murders

Jane Rundolf - Challenge One

User: perditapongo

I walked out of my office to get a mug of coffee. It bashed rhythmically against my leg, and I hummed slowly. For some reason, I had loved music as a kid. The horrible music teacher at my school said my voice was 'Like an old guitar, not at all tuneable' and I ran out of the classroom, tears streaming down my face. I brushed my hair back with my hands, annoyed I'd let the memory into my head again. I was almost into the staffroom now, and I walked into the little alcove-y part with the kettle and tap with two little shelves for sandwiches and other snacks we might want. The kettle clicked, showing it was ready. The steam hissed out, making little white clouds in front of my eyes and making me pour a little hot water on my hand. I winced, wafted the rest of the steam away, then after stirring the coffee hastily, walking out. I felt embarrassed, even though I knew no one was there. I always feel watched, judged, wherever I go, from the early morning when I wake up I to late at night when I'm asleep.

I walked quickly back to my office to continue the work I was doing, and listened happily to the lessons taking place in the classrooms next to me. Back at the office, I sat down, taking a quick sip of my coffee as I did so, not spilling the water this time. On the wall opposite, I looked at the picture of the school students and all the teachers. I was there, smiling happily, and I looked for the picture of Nicholi Trevino and Beth Rose. But when I got to where they should be, there was nothing but a red smear, unmistakably blood. This was scary. I gulped down the last mouthful of coffee, then took down the picture and ran to show someone and ask them about it.