Murder of Academic Proportions: Chapter 1: The Invitation

Tw: suicide, death, violence. 

    Hello there, dear reader.

    My name is Noah Fetherington, perhaps you have seen some of my films such as “Death On The Rooftops”, “Library Massacure”, “The Boston Teaparty 2”, “I Fell In Love With A School Teacher”, and many others. I have been the lead in many films and plays all throughout my illustrious career. However, this book is not about me. So those of you who were wishing to read about my brilliance and amazingness, then I’m afraid that this is not the book for you. But don’t be sad, I am sure you will find my Autobiography, “Living The Dream, The Life Of Me, Noah Fetherington, So Far. By: Noah Fetherington.” 

    For those of you who were intrigued by the title, which I thought of myself, thank you very much, then buckle up because this is a tale of death, disease, bie-sexual romance, lesbian romance, straight romance as well (for those of you who enjoy that sort of thing), carnivorous animals, cigars, leather clad entertainers, secret affairs, drug dealers, textbooks, and pistols, lots of pistols. 

    Now, this story begins on a cold December night when I had returned to my home at 125 Windsor Street in London after having attended the publication party of a very good friend of mine from my school days by the name of Madeline Knight. She and I attended the illustrious Chimera Academy and Boarding School in central California together. Madeline Knight is an amazing novelist and playwright. In fact, she wrote the script and book for my West End debut, “Screw The Cowboys!”  Madeline’s wife, Nancy, was gone on a business trip and Madeline didn’t feel safe on her own in their part of the city, so she had been staying in my guest room for the last few weeks so of course she accompanied me home.

I opened the door at midnight on the dot, I know this because I heard Big Bently ring. The door opened very easily, which was when I noticed that the lock was broken. We walked inside and turned the lights on to see that the place had been ransacked! The coat hanger had been ripped from the wall so we simply placed our winter coats on the floor next to it. My portrait which once hung on the wall had now been torn to the ground. The sofa in the parlor was practically gutted, with the stuffing everywhere. The kitchen was, for some reason, left untouched. From the floor above us we heard a bang and the hurried running of footsteps. I grabbed a candlestick from the parlor and ran up the stairs, ready to confront the intruder using my vast knowledge of stage and screen combat. Lucky for them, the nefarious criminal escaped out a window from the second floor bathroom, probably landing on one of my neighbor’s rooftops. 

The ruffian didn’t take anything, he only ransacked the house and left an envelope on my bed. 

It read:

“Dear Mr. Featherington, 

As you may know, the Chimera Academy was recently purchased by an anonymous party, and with it, its secrets. I know what you did. I know what you did to Laura Gorham. And I know of your present day crimes as well. You will return to the Chimera Campus on the evening of February 14th where we shall discuss the price for my silence.

Sincerely, 

Wouldn’t you wanna know.”

Dear readers, I will now reveal to you something that I was too ashamed to reveal in my autobiography, but I believe is crucial to this story. 

When I attended the great Chimera Academy, I was involved with a group of students, one might have called us a “secret society” of sorts. We were, in a way, the robin hoods of the school. You see, many things that a child might consider crucial to their wellbeing and happiness were banned from school grounds. Such things included music of any kind, sugary sweets, any form of game, and any student led clubs. Me and my chums supplied the students of Chimera Academy with all of these much needed items. In the night, we would sneak into the kitchen to make our own sweets, host secret gaming clubs in various dorms, and would provide spaces for listening to the latest records and cds from the outside world. We were kings. But back then, I had one enemy, Laura Gorham. One could say she was my rival in the theatrical arts. Her and I both knew that the world wasn’t big enough for the both of us. So when the staff discovered the shenanigans of me and my mates, I did the only reasonable thing I could think of, I said it was all Laura Gorham’s idea and that she was the mastermind behind it all. 

So, while I as well as the real criminals got a slap on the wrist and a stern talking to, Laura got expelled. She was so devastated, and so utterly terrified of her parent’s reaction, that she didn’t see any reason left to live. So she jumped off the roof of the academy and fell to her death. 

For so many years, and to this day, I have blamed myself for what happened to her. Sometimes I wonder if I should be the one dead instead of her. 

Madeline came running down the hall and into my room in tears, apparently she too had received a similar letter. However, what secrets she was being blackmailed with I had no idea. She wasn’t a part of my underground childhood dealings, so I asked her what it was that she had done. 

“I can’t say”, she replied. “I just can’t.”

So it was then that I prayed for the first time. 

I wish I could say that that was all there really was to the story. I wish I could say that the next day a letter would arrive in the mail saying “sorry, never mind, you don’t have to come and pay blackmail.” I wish I could say that Madeline and I never got on that February plane to California. I wish I could say that the events following our flight were all sunshine and rainbows, but I can't. Because this isn’t fiction. 

And this is only the beginning.