It Started With a Murder

Chapter Two

Adrian:

I sit on my front door step, watching people milling in the front garden of the house where Belle used to live.

Belle, Belle, my beautiful Belle. I used to tell her over and over how beautiful I thought she was, she never believed me, she always used to compare herself to the evil twins. She was so modest, she never thought too highly of herself or too lowly of anyone else.

We were neighbours for her whole life, we were also best friends until the twins moved in on the other side of her. She got to know them and suddenly everyone loved her, suddenly every one of the pathetic people at my school could see what I had always seen in her. And then we began drifting apart.

At first Belle tried to include me, she would still make time for me, still treat me as though I was special, but slowly the gap between us grew bigger. We stopped seeing each other at school, we didn’t have the same friends or the same hobbies.

Eventually we just stopped seeing each other all together, I was only eight. We didn’t speak for years, not even to say ‘hi’ when we passed each other on the street.

Then at the beginning of Summer, Belle began to talk to me again. At first I didn’t want to talk to her, she’d abandoned me and I had my own friends, but she was so nice, it was impossible not to like her. Eventually we were as close as we ever had been. I don’t know why she suddenly wanted to talk to me again, only that something must have gone wrong with the twins.

Over the Summer we began to grow closer and closer, we could talk to each other about everything. Then one day our relationship shifted. It was a late, warm evening and we were in my garden listening to the radio when one of her favourite songs came on, she pulled me into a dance. At first we were joking around, laughing and falling all over the place but then it turned more serious and we somehow ended up kissing.

That was only two months ago.

Slowly I stand up, I’m already wearing a shirt and tie, I have been since this morning, trying to make up my mind whether or not to attend the funeral. I chickened out of that but now there's the wake, that's just next door, I feel pathetic not being there. I wonder if Belle would want me there, I know her family certainly doesn’t, they made that pretty clear on the day of her murder.

I look at the house and I know that I have to do, I have to pay my respects to my lost lover.

I take my time walking out of my front garden, to the next house. I pause at the gate, wondering what I’m going to do when I actually get inside the house. I want to turn back but it’s to late now, people have begun to notice me, if I leave now it will just be brandishing me as guilty.

So I hold my head high, open the gate and walk straight through the garden without one look at the people staring at me. I walk into the house and bump straight into my mother, “Sorry…” she mumbles before glancing up and seeing me. “Adrian! What on Earth are you doing here?”

“I’m here to pay my respects,” I mutter, acting bored, even though it hurts to know that even my own mother doesn’t want me there.

“You have to leave, now, before your father sees you,” Mum says, taking my arm and trying to tug me towards the door.

Luckily for me, I’m about a head taller and twice as wide as her so it would take a lot more than a simple tug for her to move me.

I shake her hand off my arm and begin to walk away. “Adrian, please don’t cause any trouble.” I ignore her and continue to walk towards the back of the house to the living room, knowing that that’s where Belle’s parents are going to be. I have to find them and tell them, tell them something, I just don't know what yet.

Just before reaching the living room I have the bad luck to bump into my father. I duck my head away and try to swivel past him but he’s to quick for me. He grabs me by the scruff of my shirt and slams me against the closest wall. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he hisses.

I struggle against his grip, to no avail. “Let go.”

“No. I’m taking you home right now,” my father says, keeping a low but menacing tone.

“No, I need to pay my respects,” I argue back, ignoring the shocked looks being sent our way by the onlookers. I wonder why they don’t do anything, surely they can tell I’m in pain. Then I remember, I’m public enemy number one. Of course no one’s going to help me, the majority of them probably want to help my father beat me up.

I look up into my father’s eyes and realise that there is nothing I can say to make him let go of me. He will never willingly let me walk into that living room. I know I can’t overpower him so I do all I can think of.

And spit in his face.

The reaction is just as I imagined, my father’s grip loosens drastically enough to allow me to break free, though it only just gives me enough time to run to the living room. I’m sure many of the onlookers would’ve made a grab for me but they all seemed too stunned to move.

I lunge into the living room, closely followed by my father, who no longer wants to create a scene, not in front of the grieving parents.

The living room falls silent, everyone is focussed on me. “I’m so sorry… I tried to stop him,” my dad says, breaking the shock barrier that kept the room silent, holding back everyone’s words from me.

Suddenly I am overpowered by the screaming and shrieking voices, hurling all sorts of insults at me. I ignore them and walk to the sofa upon which Mrs Dickson, Belle’s grandma and the less-scary of the twins sit. All three are silent.

I open my mouth three times before any sound comes out, “Belle was a beautiful girl, I will dearly miss her and I'll never forget her.” I stop, hoping to get at least a small, merciful response off of Mrs Dickson.

The room slowly falls silent again, everyone waiting for the reply, hoping that I’m going to be cursed out of the house for ever more.

But Mrs Dickson doesn’t do that, she doesn’t even ask me to leave, no, she hits me exactly on my sore spot with just one word. “Murderer.”