Down by the River

"Did you hear?"

"Y' mean about the girl that lived down by the river?"

"Yeah."

"I feel sorry for her brother. I mean no one saw it coming did they, she always seemed so happy"

Today the hallways of St Helena’s were silent except for whispers stories guessing why Briar Moore ended her life and all I could do was silently laugh at their ignorance. It seems as though no one knows the real story, as reality has been changed into a tragic tale of suffering and misery.  This particular rumour is no more unreasonable than the last but is the only one that seemed to capture the attention of the school as a whole. The crazy thing is that if I did not know better I might have thought that this theory had merit. But I do know better I thought with a smile as I walk to my first class. Briar's death was still under investigation with no new leads and as I walk into my psychology lecture I begin to consider coming forward with information as the CIs were incompetent fools who missed every piece of evidence that I left for them.

Sitting down at my desk I register that I am alone in the vast lecture hall, so I pull out my worn leather journal. Pages and pages filled with my mistakes, my triumphs and everything in between. But now I have a new story to tell. I open up the pages filled with scrawls of my past self until I am faced with a clean slate and with shaking hands, I begin to write.

Dear Diary

This is the story of how I killed Briar Moore. Yes, I know that this sounds cliche but in my defence, I was not alone. You might be asking yourself who could it be. What if I told you that it was her twin brother that did away with her in a drunken rage. Or it could have been a hitman sent by a local drug dealer who Briar was in debt to. But what if I told you that it was all three. The perfect senior loved by all was killed by a hitman her brother and myself. Sounds almost impossible, doesn’t it. I know that you must have a million questions and I make no promises that I can answer them. See, I don’t want to get arrested so I can only tell you half the story but it’ll be interesting all the same. Anyway, my name is… well, let’s just say, Maggie even though that’s not ACTUALLY my name. Don’t get your hopes up because as I said I don’t want to get arrested, so you will hopefully for my sake NOT find out my true identity. And finally, the moment you’ve been waiting for, I am Maggie and this is how one Briar Moore was murdered by 4 people. Her brother, her old principle, a gunman hired to collect her debts and last but not least myself.

Looking up breaking out of my stupor I register that I am now completely surrounded as the lecture is about to begin. Panicking I slam the tattered book shut and look around to check if anyone was reading over my shoulder. When I turn I see the one and only Astor Moore. That’s right, the alcoholic brother of the beloved deceased senior. He gives me a significant look and I signal for him to sit in the empty seat next to me. Rolling his eyes clearly annoyed he strides over to the aisle seat on my right.

“What are you doing?” he hisses in my ear while sitting down in the seat. Next thing I know he’s snatched the book out of my hands and is flipping through the pages until he lands on my most recent entry. “ You’re going to get us caught Kenzie!”

“No, I’m not I’m being carefu-”

“Anyone could have seen! I was two rows behind you and I could read what you wrote!”

“But they didn’t did they. Or else we would already be screwed” With a heavy sigh he pulls a flask out of his bag and takes a gulp before relaxing and looking me straight in the eye.

“You can’t show anyone that or I’ll get arrested. Same with you know who.”

“I was never going to I just need to write it down so that I don’t go crazy. We killed her and even though it was for everyone’s safety we still did it”

“If you want to get something off your chest just talk to me because we can’t afford to let anyone find out about this. We have to use this suicide thing to our advantage, spread it as far as possible.”

“I should have left you out of this. I could have done it myself but I was just too bloody scared”

“You’d probably be dead if you hadn’t called me that night. She was crazy. Plus if you had gotten hurt by her I never would have forgiven myself.” With these words, I feel the anger leave his voice and take the flask out of his now limp hands taking a sip of the 60% vodka before putting it back in his hands. We pass the vodka back and forth until it is empty and a giddy feeling has overwhelmed both of us. After the bottle is put away I feel Astor’s arm drape around my neck, in response, I rest my head on his shoulder closing my eyes basking in the calmness that is ever-present when I am with him. I open my eyes and look up at my boyfriend who smiles down at me pressing a gentle loving kiss on my lips causing me to burrow further into his shoulder closing my eyes once again. I feel completely at peace for just a moment before I surrender to the world of sleep.

3 Months Earlier

I was sitting on the steps that lead up to the school face buried in a book about a tragic tail of suicide caused by an abusive family and the characters inner loneliness when I first saw him. Everyone saw him drive into the parking lot with his attractive twin sister who had perfect waist-length brown hair and bright green eyes that would catch the attention of any man no matter their age. As they both got out of the car I surveyed their appearances. The girl was wearing huge hoop earrings, a tiny skirt and a t-shirt that seemed to be multiple sizes too small. I look at my own hair and clothes and feel a sudden surge of self-consciousness about my appearance. My orange hair went down to just below my shoulders and was extremely thin. There are dark circles under my eyes and I am wearing denim overalls with a black singlet underneath. The twins begin to walk up the steps and I sling my shoulder bag over my back as my first class is about to start. Walking behind the two I saw a stark contrast between the two.  While his twin and his car were both picture-perfect he seemed damaged. He wore a beanie paired with a Forrest green hoodie and black jeans as well as worn leather boots that looked as though they had been to war and back. I stopped outside my physics class and to my surprise, the boy did the same. He continued to talk to his sister for a few moments oblivious to my attention. His beanie pinned his hair down over his eyes, which unlike his sister’s green ones were a stormy grey that perfectly mirrored my own. He must have felt my gaze upon him because as soon as his sister walked away he walked over to me. My heart was pounding a million times a second as he reached into his bag only to pull out a bottle.

“Wanna drink?” This took me slightly off guard and I replied cautiously as my family had always taught me to never trust anyone.

“I don’t even know you. Why are you offering me a drink of all people?”

“You looked like the most legit person here. Everyone else just seems like they are pretending just so that they can fit in.” True. But not the point.

“That’s still not a proper reason, plus I’ve got my own.” I pull out a flask filled with whiskey careful that a teacher could not have heard before taking a sip. The boy at least a head taller than me let out a laugh in response. This elicits a small smile out of me and for the first time in a long time I begin to feel like a human again.