The sun is shining and the birds chirping while I head to my locker. Everyone is chatting, yelling, gossiping.... And today there seems to be one main topic.  <wbr><wbr>


    A girl died on her bus.


    I get to SPHE, and the class sounds like a hive.


    “I heard she died from eating a chocolate muffin.”


    “Why would a chocolate muffin kill her?”


    “It has peanuts in it.”


    “So?”


    “She was deadly allergic to peanuts.”


    “Did she not know know it had peanuts in it?”


    Silence, but not for long.


    “Maybe it was on purpose.” Chimed in a voice.


    “You think someone wanted to kill her?”


    That was an interesting take. But it also could’ve been a stupid mistake.


    I sit tiredly in English; we’ve just finished Of Mice and Men. Such a morbid ending, yet it was portrayed that George did an act of kindness. But can murder be justified? My mind goes back to the conversation in SPHE.


    ?”Maybe it was on purpose.”


    But why? The girl’s name was Crystal, and she was fifteen years old. Everyone loved her. She was my best friend…I shake my head, trying to distract myself. I look at my timetable, I have Home Ec next. My favourite class. My teacher really liked what I baked yesterday, she said I have very good ideas!Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    During break time, I sit with my friends outside. The sky is blue, and the flowers are blooming.


    “Crystal was so nice; she didn’t deserve to die!” Sniffed one of my friends.


    “And pretty too! Gold blonde hair, a face of a princess, perfect for the role of Aurora! She liked acting, didn’t she? Played in last years play, I think.” The others nodded.


    “She was such a good singer.”


    “She truly was perfect.”


    Yes, Perfect. Little Miss Perfect, no one saw through the cracks. But clearly someone did, because now she’s in a casket. No, it couldn’t be a murder. It was just a muffin, an accident. One of my friends shook me out of my thoughts.


    “Could you come with me to the bathroom? On the fourth floor, there’s less people there.”


    I shudder. I’ll never go to that bathroom again. Not after what happened.


    “No, sorry. I need to finish my science homework.” I answer.


    It’s last class, art. I love drawing, and today I’m drawing flowers. Crystal usually sat beside me. No, stop! Let’s not think about her. But I can’t. I drew a little rose, yet my mind circled back to the empty chair beside me. In First year, I met Crystal. She was the first person to talk to me, and she was so nice. She was like people say, perfect. But in Second year, I started to see through her porcelain mask. She liked risks. And if she’d get caught, she would just blame it on someone else. And you can try explain yourself, but they’d only believe her. Because she was perfect! My roses began to look like scribbles. Stop, she was a great friend, and I miss her. I take out my red pencil and colour in my massacred roses.


    It’s time to go home. I walk alongside my friend.


    “You are quite down today, it’s because of what happened, isn’t it?” I nod.


    “It must be hard for you, you were so attached to each other. Even after what you’ve been doing in second year. We didn’t understand why’d she still hang around you after you pushed her down the stairs.”


    I gritted my teeth, I never pushed her. She tripped and blamed it on me. But whatever I’ll say it doesn’t matter. My friend noticed my silence.


    ?”Sorry, you are really nice now. I guess you had a rebel phase.”


    Another silence. We walked along the street of Magh, passing by the little rows of pastel houses.


    “She liked everything you made in Home Ec.”


    “Hm?”


    “Crystal, she liked the things you made in Home Ec. Especially what you baked.”


    “Oh, yeah.”


    “What are you planning to bake next?”


    “Chocolate chip cookies.”


    “That’s nice, she would’ve loved that.” My friend smiled sadly.


    …” yeah.”


    My friend sighed. “She was such an angel. Helped everyone out. Never said anything bad about anyone. Teachers loved her.”


    Ha! Angel? Angel who liked to frame her friends! Bring vodka to school, drag her friend to the fourth flour bathroom, peer pressure her into drinking and then when caught, claiming she was the one peer pressured. She said it was all my fault! But it wasn''t me! It was her! Her, her, her! Now I’m seen as a psychopath! Angel!


    My friend looks upset at me, because I’ve been ignoring her.


    “Yeah, a sweet angel.” I muster out.


    God. She loved sweets. I hope she liked the chocolate muffin I gave her.