How To Survive Murder

Chapter 3 - Selina

SELINA'S POV

I cannot express my rage right now. I feel like my head is going to explode – the little bitch. Penny signed me up for that ridiculous competition and the morning of is now dwelling on me.

It is currently seven in the morning. I am used to these early mornings with work, but all I can think about right now is curling back up into a fetal position under my warm, cosy duvet. I believe that I am a whimsical soul who has mastered the art of savouring the delicate embrace of my duvet haven each morning. The sun may be gently coaxing the world awake, but I prefer to linger a little longer beneath the soft sanctuary of my blankets. My room, adorned with warm hues and scattered sunlight, becomes a haven of tranquillity on a morning. It is my safe space. My mother knows not to disturb me here, especially on a morning.

This morning though, I know I can't indulge in the luxurious ritual of hitting the snooze button on my phone. I have a competition to get ready for.

With tousled hair and a gentle smile, I throw the layer of comfort away from me, revealing my body to the sharp coldness that inhibits my room. Ugh, who invented early starts to the day? Can't the world just agree that waking up before 9am should be a crime worthy of execution?

Having a staring competition with my wardrobe is a common task I undergo every morning. Usually, I would opt for sports leggings and a hoodie. But today, today I need to dress to impress according to 'Everett Hedy-Sid'.

After the rules of the competition were messaged to me yesterday, I have become more and more sceptical of this whole ordeal. Yesterday morning I had a long, painful phone call with Penny, who I am apprehensive about seeing after this whole thing is over. She had absolutely no right to enter me. My personal details sent to some odd competition organisation without any of my consent. Hell, I don't even feel comfortable using my emails on shopping websites. At the moment, I despise the girl.

Eventually, I settle on my outfit for the day and dress myself in some high waisted denim flares and a black body suit – paired with some white trainers. Now, I know this isn't exactly the brief I was given, but this is the best it's going to get. I'm not one to dress up, Penny is the one that likes the makeup, the voluminous, curly hair, the designer clothes. I however, am happy to pull my hair into a high ponytail and apply light makeup.

My mother waited at the bottom of the stairs for my descent, with a sour look on her face. "Where do you think you're going?" My mother is always entitled to know everything, even though she hasn't had significance in my life since I was around six.

"Out." My tone is monotone and dry. I pull my mother a small smile and she reacts with creased eyebrows. To be honest, she's probably happy I am leaving the house. That way, she can drink to her hearts content with no rude remarks from me.

I double checked the address of the competition on my phone and began my journey on the bus. After about thirty minutes I get off at my stop, which happens to be in the centre of London.

The streets are bustling with life. Civilians on their way to work, parents taking their kids to school, students travelling to university. Cars zoom past me, throwing gusts of wind my way. My ponytail now tangled and messy. Horns of angered London drivers echoing the streets and cafes filled with people drinking coffee.

I put the address into Maps on my phone. A ten-minute walk it tells me, which means I should arrive at the competition for about 7:46am. Nice and early. I cannot stand people who are late. Penny is normally late for everything. We had arranged an evening meal a few weeks ago. The table was booked for 7pm. Penny didn't arrive until 7:15pm.