Hey Guys,
Here is another short story for you guys!
Her eyes pierced a wound in my heart, deeper than any knife could conflict. I thought of her as dangerous. Disastrous. Confusing, even. But I never considered her to be murderous.
I had trusted her. No matter how much I could pin this on her, I had trusted her. I had trusted her smile. Her lies. Her soul. Her eyes. I would never stop blaming myself.
The police had no idea where she was. She was all over posters screaming; Wanted! Every time I passed one I cringed, knowing why she was wanted and who she was. It was because of her. Because of Tammy Shaw, that my little sister is dead.
The police found my sister two weeks ago, sent her to the Hospital. But it was too late.
"I'm afraid the wound was too deep, it was too late." The Doctor sadly informed me, glancing down at the pale, dead girl on the table that used to be my little sister.
The funeral was simple. Friends and family gathered round the willow tree in our garden and we scattered her ashes there, as it was her favourite place to be.
My parents were, from there forward, intent on carrying on as normal. As it was 'What Isabelle would have wanted' apparently.The only thing not normal that my parents were involved in was the search for Tammy. They were just as intent as I was to make her pay the price. They had searched high and low across the country but she was not to be found. The Police had invested hundreds of pounds into the search, just for it to come to a dead end.
I will never forget what happened. It was too embedded into my memory to forget. Even if I wanted to it was not an option.
I was sat at the lunch table, eyeing the new girl coyly. She was sat alone, stirring her spaghetti with her fork moodily. Before I knew what I was doing, my legs lifted me up, tray in my hands and carried me over to where she was seated. A pair of big brown eyes glanced at me curiously and she gestured for me to sit down beside her. I sat awkwardly and began;
'I'm-' I broke off as she glared at me.
'I have no interest in who you are, or what you do. Why did you sit here? I hope you didn't pity me. I wasn't looking for sympathy.' She contradicted, her eyes boring into mine.
'I sat here because I wanted to.' My answer was short, simple and tried to show I wasn't hurt. My answer obviously startled her, as she must not be used to someone being so straight with her.
She looked taken aback and nodded slightly before continuing to stir her spaghetti, glaring at the strands of pasta wrapping it's way round the fork.
I was shifting uncomfortably in my seat as I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye when she said 'Look, I don't know who the heck you are and why you are sitting here but I am really not in the mood for a conversation.' And that was our first conversation.
To Be Continued...
Hope you enjoyed!
Pen Pal M xo
