Our story is about a town; a small town and the people who live in the town. From a distance, it presents itself like so many other small towns all over the world...safe, decent, innocent. Get closer though and you start seeing the shadows underneath. The name of our town is Riverdale.
And our story begins, I guess, with what two of the Blossom triplets did this summer.
On the fourth of July, just after dawn, Jason and Cheryl Blossom drove out to Sweetwater River. For an unknown reason, they didn't bring their other triplet, Ophelia, with them. A fact everyone overlooked, except for Ophelia, and even she couldn't explain why her own siblings didn't bother to wake her up that morning.
The next thing we know happened, for sure, is that Dilton Doiley, who was leading Riverdale's boy scout troupe on a bird watching expedition, came upon Cheryl by the river's edge.
The news traveled fast about the death of Jason Blossom. The story Cheryl told was that her white glove fell into the water and when Jason reached for it, the boat tipped over. Jason drowned that morning and Cheryl swam to shore, safe. The two remaining of the triplets were heartbroken over their brother's death, Ophelia more than Cheryl, something that was too suspicious, yet most didn't bother to question it.
People should have questioned it.
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In The Mourning || Riverdale
FanfictionThe Blossoms triplets were, both, feared and envied in the town of Riverdale. Everyone knew who they were and most wanted to be them, or at least friends with the famous trio. Jason, Cheryl, and Ophelia were known for three things; being triplets, b...
