We quickly walked back to my house. We talked about it for a while, I wanted to turn the clocks back, I knew what I had done.
The next day was the hardest; we were told in geography. I had to get out. I ran to the toilets and I sobbed for a while, not because of the teacher being dead but because if Mum was watching over me that day, how disappointed would she be?
When the bell went for lunch, Jen came looking for me in the toilets,
‘What are you doing? Do you want them to know it was us?’ I had been crying quite hysterically.
‘Of course I don’t, but you weren’t there, you didn’t have to do it.’ I can still picture the hellish image now. My hands felt unclean and dirty, and my head was screaming at me.
We were sitting on the sinks with our legs dangling helplessly over the edge both just gazing into midair. Then I looked down and I couldn’t help noticing a shoelace poking out from one of the cubicles. It hit me; I realized that we weren’t the only ones who knew what we had done.
I silently pointed the shoelace out to Jen and she turned white with horror. I could begin to see the adrenaline rush to her head. I don’t know why, but we looked at each other and for some unknown reason we just both began to laugh. What was so funny?. Eventually we persuaded the person in the toilet to come out. To our horror, we found Mrs Green the music teacher looking rather stern at us; you know like most teachers do. Who did she think she was? Had she forgotten that she was looking at two unstable murderers? We just stared at her. We had the power to make her feel so uncomfortable that she began to change from the huge monster she used to be, into something smaller than a mouse. To be honest it was quite amusing.
‘Girls why did you do it?’ she looked at Jen ‘ I didn’t think you were like this, wait until your father hears about this.’ Jen didn’t seem to care, her father probably wouldn’t have either. I haven’t really known her family that long but I kind of got that impression. ‘ Yes and he’s not going to find out is he!’
‘Of course he shall. We are looking at murder here’ I began to feel my blood boil I was getting angry at the annoying pig.
‘ Well maybe you will not be able to tell him, because you maybe you might not be alive.’ Why did I say that? Jen looked at me, ‘No’ she whispered.
‘ Girls you’re so pathetic’ at that remark I couldn’t help myself, I leaped up and grabbed her by her ratty hair and flung her head into the sink, put the plug in and turned the tap on. The water managed to build up to her eyes. She was splashing and spluttering about. ‘Stop!’ Jen demanded. I ignored her. She was making too much noise so I yanked her head back and slammed it on the sink. I kept slamming, slamming and slamming until blood began to spurt up onto the mirror. I couldn’t bring myself to stop, so I didn’t. I did it even harder, this time I could feel her brain becoming detached in her skull and I could almost hear it rattling about. Blood began to drip out of her nose, so I did it harder, her nose had always been too big. It felt like I was in somebody else’s body. Jen slapped me. I finally stopped and I realized we had to do something with the unrecognisable corpse of Mrs Green. I dragged her by the ankles into a cubicle. And then we both ran out of the newly painted white, red toilets.
‘Why did you do that for?’ Jen questioned as I dropped her off at her gate. ‘I don’t know, because I wanted to’ I replied. Jen stormed off.
I phoned her later, her dad said she couldn’t speak because she didn’t want to. I tried her mobile a couple of times but that was switched off; it was never switched off.
Jen wasn’t at school the following Monday, I had to face everyone and their grief on my own. After school I went to see her, but her vicious step-mum turned me away ‘She doesn’t want to talk to you, don’t you get it she doesn’t like you anymore.’ The cheek of it! I hadn’t felt so unwanted in all my life.
Tuesday came and I decided not to call for Jen. She was at school though. I smiled at her, but in reply I was left with her hateful stare. In English I had the perfect opportunity to talk to her.
‘ Jen please forgive me,’ I begged, but she ignored me. It wouldn’t have had been so bad if she just said something horrible back it was more the fact that she didn’t care.
On the Wednesday she wasn’t at school or for the next two weeks. I went over to her house. Her dad answered the door. I hardly recognised his sunken eyes and pale complexion. ‘Jennifer’s dead, she took an overdose last week’ he informed me. I watched him wipe a solitary tear from his heart-rending eyes as he turned to shut the heavy door. Instead of saying anything I just turned and drifted back home, tears pricking my eyes.
I got home to find Emma, dad’s new thing looking puzzled at me.
‘ What are these? And why is there blood on them?’ she was holding my pinafore and my tie.
‘Oh!’ I raced to my bedroom. I burst into tears. I was in such a mess.
‘If you don’t tell me what this is, I’ll take it to the police station.’ Emma burst into my room. She always keeps on, nagging, nagging, nagging.
‘ You have no right looking through my things and you don’t have anything to do with me.’ I screamed at her.
‘ Well I will soon, your father and I are getting married in spring.’ I stood in silence; ‘No way, he wouldn’t dare.’
She smirked at me ‘ Wouldn’t he?’ she showed me the ugly ring on her finger. I slapped her and she slapped me back even harder. I kicked her and she chased me to the kitchen. I picked up a knife,
‘You wouldn’t dare,’ she gasped. My breathing was getting heavier, ‘Oh wouldn’t I?’ She grabbed the phone and dialled 999. I tossed the phone away. Grabbing her by the neck, I forced the knife into her chest. She fell; blood came gargling out of her mouth. I stabbed her again, this time in her stomach. Her body was shaking and so was mine. Her eyes were writhing in her face.
I looked up and realized the reality of it all. Police swarmed into the tiny blood stained kitchenette. They were all standing there with guns looking at me as if I were some creature waiting to be killed. I stood up. ‘It is for your own good’ I recognized the voice. I turned to find my dad looking at me. ‘ I read your diary’. I burst into tears.
Why?
Caroline Stephens 10F2
