How To Survive Murder

Chapter 1 - Selina

SELINA'S POV

"That is utterly ridiculous," I laugh at the newspaper article Penny threw into my face. "One hundred and fifty thousand pounds to compete in a competition," I say in disbelief.

   "No, no, no," Penny face-palmed, "you have to win the competition. We're not in Primary School – you don't get the money as a taking part prize," Penny flicks her golden hair over her shoulder and huffs "idiot" under her breath. Ouch; harsh Penny is taking centre stage as per usual!

   The Sunday paper had been left on the dining table and the headline had peaked both of our interests. Earlier, Penny had grabbed the discoloured paper and brought it up to her bedroom for us both to read.

   'London Competition Offering £150,00' – I internally critique the text on the newspaper again. Surely this is not legitimate. It is the headline of a tabloid newspaper for Christ's sake. Tabloids are never reliable; the facts are always skewed and twisted. I like my facts to be correct. For example, every ounce of matter on our Earth is composed of atoms. That's a fact. A correct fact, that I didn't have to learn from a tabloid newspaper.

   This competition though, very tempting I will say. Even if it is advertised in a tabloid, a £150,000 grand prize makes my heart pump faster. I could really do with that sort of money.

   Of course, it would be no use to Penny – her parents have already paid off her University fees before she's even enrolled. Her life has been mapped, planned and tediously moulded from the day she was born. One hundred and fifty thousand pounds is like, well, a penny to her. But me however, it would dramatically change my life. I'm just boring Selina. Born into a broken family, no money, no future and certainly no parents to pay off University fees. Moving to America would be the dream – a new start. Cringe worthy, I know. But definitely all facts. This prize money could certainly help with that.

   "It seems fun, right?" Penny says as she scrolls through Instagram. She's probably eyeing up another dazzling outfit she can use to impress the opposite sex at our school.

   I readjust my position on Penny's four-poster bed, grabbing a fluffy pillow to place on my crossed legs. "The article doesn't even entail what the competition is," I laugh at my friend, "they might want me to fight to the death or something."

   Penny is sceptical of my pessimistic observations; her eyes meet mine and her face drops. "I bet they will make you chop the other contestants into tiny pieces and feed them to each other," she pokes fun at me before going back to her phone. I roll my eyes in response. "Selina, it will be a talent competition or something, don't be so silly," Penny reassures me, still mindlessly scrolling on her phone.

   If it was a science competition, I would thrash my contestants. That money would be mine in a heartbeat. Chemistry is my favourite - has been since I managed to make my own bath bombs at the age of seven. I would really like to go into forensics - I think it would be pretty cool.

   Apart from science, I think I'm quite useless at everything else. Too uncoordinated for dancing, too untuned for singing, too logical for art. A talent competition would not be my forte. And for that exact reason, I will not even be entertaining the idea of entering this competition.

   I glance at the clock on my phone – 6:46pm. My stomach drops. Shit, I better get home before my mother kills me.  

   "I think I'm gonna head off," I say to Penny as I hand her back the luxurious pillow that had been keeping my legs toasty. She gives me a small hug and then plummets back onto stylish bed, still scrolling on Instagram.

   "Take the paper with you." Suddenly, Penny jumps back up from her position and passes me the newspaper. Does she really think I will enter this thing? I think the world might swallow me whole before I even entertain the thought of some shifty contest that has been advertised in a newspaper.