Sunflower fields & The Bad Boy

Death in the Church

~ CHAPTER 12 ~

The following lunch time came around quickly. The boys had been more reserved this morning, and only shared sneaky grins with one another. Other than Elijah that is. He only glanced at the other in between glaring at me.
Their weirdness made me question what they had been up to the night before, after they had disappeared into the fields.

For once the help wasn't in today, so instead of sitting at the big dining table we sat in the multiple mismatched lounges in the living room. They all seemed to have had their own different style and story to tell. I settled into one of the two arm chairs faced towards the television with a bowl of last night's spiral bolognaise. Unknown to me but in this small country town the news seemed to be the only thing that was played on every channel.

Once everyone was settled into a seat I began paying attention to the news, not that I was particularly interested in it.

"On a tragic note, the community of Rosewood is mourning the loss of Father Turner. Who was found dead this morning in his home. The local police force of Rosewood is treating the death as suspicious, believing that he was moved into his home hours after his passing." The blonde bimbo said, right as a number appeared on the screen. "If anyone knows anything about this incident. We urge for you to contact Chief Detective Johnson."

Then a portrait photo appeared of the local priest smiling. Although as I watched the report I felt relieved in a way. I swallowed the feeling, disgusted with myself.

When the segment moved into ads, Rosa spoke with sad clarity, "Oh no, this is terrible, I should phone Meranda."
She got up from her seat beside Mia walking towards the phone stand, Mia trailing past her into the kitchen.

"Yeah tragic." Snickered Elijah. The rest of the boys joining in. I couldn't understand why they would be acting in such a way towards such a respected man of the town but I kept my eyes down on my empty plate, only taking a glimpse up for a second.

My eyes met Elijah's, "the slit throat was a nice touch don't you think?" While his tone was sarcastic and nasty, it's his eyes that made the performance. They were sinister and mocking. I felt my face drain to what I can only imagine as pale as paper. They were responsible, they did it. They killed him. They murdered him.

I stood turning away from them as Matthew stood up, concern written all over his face with arms extended towards me. I staggered from the living room, my vision going blurry as I hurried towards my room. I slammed he door shut and fiddled with the lock, falling against it I slid tot he ground.

As I tried to calm my racing heart, only one thought swirled around my head.

I was living under the same roof as five murderers.

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Oh no, what have they been up to. Hehe
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- A