a generic murder

TRIGGER WARNING; this story contains mental health problems, and violence

I used to play Clue a lot as a child. Now that I think about it, I find it kind of ironic. I had always wanted to be involved in a murder case, but that winter, when I turned 19, when I was finally involved in a case, I wasn't so sure it was a good thing. Anyways, my therapist wanted me to write all the things that happened last winter. Afterwards, I'm going to burn it.

-

The only reason I was at the ski resort was for my birthday. I had wanted a special birthday, since it was my golden birthday (December 19). Anyways, I was also begging to get out of the house, since I broke up with my partner.

I drove a few hours to get there, but it was worth it. The snow was so powdery, and it was a pure, almost sugary, white color. I was driving up by myself, but my family, and two of my friends were going to join me. I was going to spend a day or two by myself, and they were going to arrive a little after that.

After I got out of my car, I admired the lodgings. It was like a modern giant cabin. It had lots of long, wide windows, and as I stood in the mini snowstorm, my eyelashes were collecting snow.

I shook off my coldness, and I decided to go inside, and get checked in, but before I could, my car made a weird noise.

Looking back on it, I guess my car either ran out of gas, or wasn't accustomed to the extreme cold. Either way, I'd have to stay here, because my car wasn't moving anytime soon.

The snow was getting worse, so I decided to go in. I was supposed to have the cabin to myself, but there were a few other people mingling in the living room/ lobby. They looked about my age, maybe a year or two older. I walked up to somebody, and tapped her on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, miss?"

She turned around, annoyed. She had bleached blonde hair, with a side part, and a thick southern accent. She also had a glass of alcohol in her hand.

"What do you want?", she said snottily. Looking at her, I felt severely underdressed in my sweatpants and Nirvana t-shirt. She, however, was wearing a sparkly black dress.

"I just thought I was supposed to be the only one here?...", I said, trailing off, as I looked at the others. They had all stopped what they were doing, and were staring at me.

She sneered, and barked out: "Is this some not-funny joke? My party and I were the only ones supposed to be here. We paid. Now leave.", she said. The others were still staring at me, and this irked me.

"I'm sorry, Miss America, but I paid to come here with my family and friends. We paid."

She had started to open her mouth to say something, but an employee had come in just then.

He was sweating, and fidgeting. "I'm sorry for the mix-up everyone. We got the schedules in the wrong folders, so they didn't count it in the system. Either way, we have room for everyone, so make yourselves at home."

The woman glared at me, like it was my fault, and then turned away.

-

Later, I was exploring the grounds, and nothing really happened, other than me getting a bit mad at someone doing something bad. Other than that, there was nothing. Until they found him.

-

I had just walked in, when I smelt the most vile smell I had ever smelt. It was the stench of rotting, and decay. I looked around, and saw a man taking a garbage bag out into the dumpster area. I sighed, not realizing I had been holding my breath. It was just the nervous employee I had seen before.

I continued inside, and heard a shrill scream. Obviously I ran towards the sound, and I found the overdressed woman standing in the center of the lobby.

A man was slumped over the table, and blood was spilling out of his head. It didn't have a fresh, metallic smell, so it had been lying there for a long time. I stood stock still, and stared. The handful of other people started pouring in, so I stepped aside.

-

After this, they called the cops, but the snow storm had gotten so bad that nobody could come up there and investigate, so we were left alone. Obviously people wanted to leave, but the employee stopped anyone from leaving, so that when it was over, the police could investigate.

-

That night, everyone had gathered in the kitchen. The snotty woman had called a meeting. For everyone.

"I know some of you don't know who I am. My name is Sharon. I want everyone else to introduce each other."

"Max" A burly man, with a beard.

"Shellie" A small teen, about a year younger than me.

"Melinda" A red haired woman.

"Bill" Sharon's husband.

Finally, it was me.

"Violet", I said. 

“Now that we’re all here, I would like to put some clues together to try and find our killer.”, she cleared her throat. “We know he died at about 6;40, so let’s get our alibis out of the way. You. Tell us where you were.”, she pointed to me. 

“I was out skiing and exploring, and then I came back and you all had found him dead.”, I stated. She eyed me suspiciously. I stared right back, confident. “Fine. How about you, Bill?” Sharon said. Bill stood up from the stool he was resting on, and said “I was asleep. You saw me.” Sharon nodded, backing up his story. “Melinda?” 

Melinda leaned back on the counter, and said she had been in the hot tub with Max. 

Max backed her up. 

Shellie was helping to make dinner, which was going to be a pot roast. 

Sharon didn’t give an alibi. 

“So the only person without an alibi is Violet.”, she sneered. I glared at her. “What do you mean? You never stated an alibi, Shellie was alone, and Melinda and Max are obviously lying.” I said, in rapid fire, counting them off on my fingers. 

So Violet is the only one without an alibi," she scoffed. I gave her a glare. "Why do you say that? Melinda and Max are lying, you never provided an alibi, and Shellie was by herself."  As I counted them off on my fingers, I spoke quickly.

Max questioned menacingly, "How are we lying?" I was on the verge of laughing out loud at this. In an effort to impress Melinda, he had tried to blow out his chest like a rooster. I tried to contain the chuckle that was soon to slip from my mouth, but I couldn’t help it. 

Max stepped forward, angry at the giggle. 

“You really are stupid, aren’t you”, I had said. Max’s face was starting to turn red from the frustration and guilt. 

“Well, I had watched one of the employees cleaning the tub, and the chemicals he was using would kill anyone who went into the tub, so he put up a sign. There were also no footprints in the fresh snow.” I analyzed it. 

-

After a few minutes, we broke  up the meeting, and we all went our separate ways. That is, until they found the next body. It was Max.

-

I was just rinsing off my hands, when I heard a yell. I rushed downstairs, and made a beeline for the kitchen, which was where the yell was from. He had died from chemicals. 

-

Basically, after that, we had another meeting, and nobody was ‘found guilty’. Everyone came to the conclusion that it was the hot tub chemicals. 

After that, Melinda was next. Her head was found in a closet. 

Then Bill. Poison. 

All that was left now was me, Sharon, Shellie, and the single employee. We were waiting for the police to arrive. I couldn’t go much longer. Nobody suspected me. That was convenient. They were easy to kill off. 

When the police finally did come, they found me. I didn’t realize I was still covered in fresh blood, so when I went out to greet them, they immediately arrested me. 

Now I’m here. In the ‘insane’ asylum. When I came here, I asked where my friends and family were. They told me I had killed them. They told me I was schizophrenic. They said I was a sociopathic, manipulative liar. They said I had killed more than 30 people, until I was shot in my arm. They said I did not have a reservation there. That I had decided to kill those people off of a ‘feeling’. I didn’t like the words they called me , so they were next to go before they put these restraints on my hands. I did not appreciate them. They finally took them off so I could write this. That was the biggest mistake they could make.