Confidential Murder, Chapter 1

 

 

1

 

Like a bruise, my heart has places that…

I don’t want to touch again.

Like paint that never dries

or a story that never ends.
-Natalie Reed

 

 

Maggie looked into the mirror at the makeup table in corner of her room. She ran her fingers into her long brown hair. The strands slid effortlessly through her fingers. The sides of her nose flared up in disgust. Why am I cursed with the silky brown hair, and big brown eyes.. It hurt to be pretty. She tugged hard on her tresses, as she reached for the scissors, and paused.  The hair felt cool in her hand, like it was wet, but slicker. She let the hair drop. She reached out with her left hand. She selected a single strand from near her right eye. Raising the scissors, she heard the slink slink of the blades as she opened and closed the scissors.  She placed the blades on either side of a single strand of her auburn hair. She wished she could cut more, cut it all.

Hope rose in her soul, this time, it will end her pain. Never again, she would never do this again, she promised herself. The ritual was weird, and embarrassing. Her secret, a deep secret never to be revealed.  She paused as she heard footsteps start down the hall. She held her breath, the footsteps stopped and retreated. She made pursed lips and exhaled softly.

 The hair cleaved into two pieces. She turned and slid open the small wooden drawer to her right. She lifted out a scuffed old white cigar box, and added the strand to a ponytail of hair in the box.

Closing the drawer, she heard her mom talking down the hall. Her shoulders relaxed. Turning back to the table, she saw the picture. She ran her finger over the image of herself in 2^nd grade, at the end of year party. She had been smiling. She traced her smile with her finger. As she stood up, she placed the picture face down on the table.  

Pulling her hair into a ponytail, she flipped the black ponytail holder into place. She grabbed the stray half cut hair, and tucked it under some longer ones. No traces. She stood up and walked out of the room.

 

 

Maggie wrapped her arms around her mom’s neck and rested her cheek on her mom’s shoulder.  

 Jessica turned and looked into Maggie’s eyes. Jessica smiled. “Well, Mags, what’s up?”

 “Nothin’, Why? ” Maggie let go, grabbed a piece of her mom’s toast, and pranced into the living room.

She found her spot on the couch and flipped on the television. She sat flipping through the channels. Jessica walked in.

“Mags, I came home last night, and you were not in your bed. Where were you?

Maggie froze and pursed her lips, she looked at the candle on the mantle. “Couldn’t sleep, and couldn’t stand being cooped up, went out.”

“In the middle of the night?”

The corners of her mouth turned down. “Mom, can we just not go there, I really don’t want to talk about everything again. I just couldn’t sleep.” She pulled the fuzzy zebra blanket up to her chin and stared at the television.

 “ We need to talk, young lady. I don’t want you out of the house in the middle of the night. It is not safe”

“Safe, SAFE? It is not safe in this house.”

“What was that? Not safe? Are you saying it is my fault that you got hurt? Really it that what you are saying?”

“Just saying I don’t like it here now, it is creepy.”

“Moment ago it was unsafe, and now creepy.”

“Can you please just drop it?”

 “Mags, I just don’t get it.. What has happened to us, to our family?”

“Just drop it, Mom, Mark happened!” She noticed that her Mom was walking down the hall. Her hand rose and rested on her stomach as if trying to calm it down. Don’t go down there mom. He’s not there. Please just don’t go down there. She whispered to herself. Her mom keep walking. She heard mom open the basement door and then heard her footsteps on the  stairs.

 

 

Jessica returned to the living room. “Did Mark leave early?

“Don’t know”

“When I came home last night, to check on you, his truck was gone. Was he home when you got back ?”

“Nope”

“His truck is still in the drive, with the boat trailer.

 “I don’t know.”

“Your Dad’s boat is not on the trailer.”

“I don’t care. I can’t stand Mark. Ain’t check up on him. I just went to bed. Can I watch this please?”

“NO!  School time. Get busy.”

Maggie flopped the pillow down on the end of the couch. She stormed past her mom. She stopped, and turned and looked at her mom. Jessica was chewing on her thumbnail. Maggie hated when her mom did that.

 

 

Maggie slammed the door to her bathroom and quickly changed into a pair of dark blue jeans and a light green top with a black lace cover up. She stood in front of the mirror and checked her ponytail. Looking at the clock, she grimaced.  She grabbed her rainbow colored makeup bag, and dropped several essentials into it, she sprayed some perfume on her pulse points. Slipping the makeup bag into her book bag, she walked quickly towards the back door. Mom was standing there with a cup in her hand. Maggie walked past her.

Maggie was wordless on the ride. Trees blurred as they whizzed by.  She pulled her book bag up on her lap. Wrapping her arms around it, and rested her chin on the top. Her eyebrows danced around as she sat there. Her fingers stroked the furry zipper pull.

 

The school was a huge sprawling set of buildings. Maggie asked mom to drop her at the corner of the property, at the stoplight. Her friends hung out at the front brick wall of the school. She frowned as they ribbed other students whose parents dropped them off. Maggie tried not to laugh at too many people, but she did laugh occasionally. Mom stopped at the light. Maggie jumped out.

As first bell sounded, Maggie headed towards her locker. She scanned the halls as she walked along. Nothing.

She rounded the corner and stepped up to her locker. She dropped her book bag into the bottom, and took out her algebra book and binder. She kissed her first two fingers and touched the picture of Jeremy that was taped in the door. She closed it up, and jogged down the now emptying hall.

She froze mid hallway. The book bag crashed to the floor as she grabbed her stomach. She closed her eyes tight.  The memory seemed to come out of the corners of her mind. She shivered. The hall around her grew dark. She was no longer in the school. She was on a dirt road, soaking wet and freezing. The wind made it even colder. She reached for the door handle. She heard the second bell sound as she touched the handle. She stood there staring into the classroom window. Everyone was looking at her. She ducked her head and walked away. 

Reviews

[M.A.Brown]

You are dead on building up tension. Making the reader want to know what's about to go down. First though, you make us wade through too many words. For instance instead of: She pulled her book bag up on her lap. Wrapping her arms around it, and rested her chin on the top. Her eyebrows danced around as she sat there. Her fingers stroked the furry zipper pull.

This: Pulling her bookbag onto her lap, she wrapped her arms around it, and rested her chin on top. Brows dancing, she stroked the furry zipper. (the reader assumes fingers are doing the stroking).

The hall around her grew dark. Suddenly she's on a dirt road, soaking wet, freezing as a frigid wind enshrouds her. The bell shatters the vision. She entered the room, ducking her head to avoid the stares of her classmates.

This has the makings of a great tale. Just leave out some of the background words. Also, try to make a smoother transition between scene changes. Good job.

[Reese Grant]

Excellent observations, I can see how that would add to the quality of the writing. Even now when I look back on the book, there are things I find I could improve. Thank you for taking time to read and comment