Saying Goodbye

I never thought I would walk through the doors of my high school gym ever again, not after her death.

Kennedy High School’s gym didn’t change after ten years. Neither did Imads, New York, which was no surprise. I don’t know why I thought it would. I swear I’m not really in the school gym as the fuzzy yet loud voices of everyone chatting swallow me in. The decorations were as cheap-looking as they were for our senior prom. Streamers covered the doorway like curtains, concealing the wasteful place within. There are a couple of gold ribbons going around the perimeter, stray balloons, and a banner that says “Congratulations class of 2014!” Then, standing in the corner is one of those memorial posters, held up by the black rods. Propped up is a picture of Claire. There it is. The reason I’m here. The only reason I would ever think to walk into this gym after everything that happened.

If this were ten years ago, I would’ve run into the gym with a giant smile on my face, greeting everyone as if I were the party host. Today, my face is emotionless as I look at the mini stage and the refreshments. Vanessa from my old volleyball team comes up to me and puts a hand on my shoulder. The fake smile comes more naturally than I thought it would. 

“I missed you so much girlie. I hope you are doing well. It must be so hard for you to be here without Claire.” Vanessa’s face has that sympathetic look that I expected most people to give me. She’s not wrong, but I deliver one of those statements that makes everyone believe I’m fine.  

“Happy to be back. I do miss Claire and her memories will always be within these walls, but I’m glad to have a reason to see my girls.” I give her a smile and she looks like she believes that I’m okay.

I don't even realize at first that I am scanning the gym. The yellowish-brown tiles are still glossy, but there's a few scuff marks on the floor making it seem like the floor was not cleaned between the school day and the reunion. There's an elevated floor closer to the wall across from me that has been used as the stage for as long as I can remember. There's green curtains pushed to the sides and peeking out from the sides are the risers for the choir and instruments for the band. There's a couple of tables placed a few people over from me. The tables are the same wooden ones that are missing a wheel or two with green tablecloths that I’m sure are from the Dollar Mart around the corner. There are some chip bowls, punch (most likely spiked) bowls, sandwiches, and other random snacks that multiple guys like Jason the old nerd turned cop, and Jonah, one of the old football players that used to shove Jason into trash cans, are munching on. The walls are still padded with green mats to most likely prevent kids from hurting themselves when they run into the walls like maniacs.

A few more of the other girls from my team come up to me. “Hayley! You’re here! Oh my god! We were worried you wouldn’t show!” Natasha hugs me and the others join in. It's so weird to see them after so much time. It practically throws me back into the past. 

Suddenly, Wendy walks in. She was head cheerleader and my biggest competition for homecoming queen. She freaked out when she lost. I really thought she would’ve cursed me out or something because she had been campaigning for homecoming queen for four years, but she just congratulated me and moved on.

“Hayley? Is that you? I mean I know you said you were coming, but I didn’t actually think it would happen! I’m so glad you’re here.” She beams at me with her friend Mackenzie standing next to her as well as some handsome man in a tux who looks like he walked off a movie screen.

Lies. She literally stalked me. She got my work number at the law office and even my cell. I don't know why she wanted me here so badly, at least not yet. We weren’t really friends at all considering we were each other's competitors for so long.

“Ladies, I hope you are all doing well. I want to hear all about your lives ten years down the road! Oh before I forget, this is my husband, Anthony. We met at one of my photo shoots. There was a booking mix-up with his movie and my small gig for Prada.” She smiles, clearly bragging and wanting everyone to express their excitement for her which they do.

No wonder he looks like that. I guess she didn’t come here trying to get Tom back. I look around and see him at the snack table. He looks pretty much the same, just with smile curves and more indented lines on his forehead like he raises his eyebrows a lot. Tom was the one thing she got from me. I wouldn’t sleep with him at prom so he went home with her. I may have gotten the crown, but she got the man. It hurt for a bit at the time, but I didn’t expect us to get married or anything so I moved on pretty fast.

“Hayley, what do you do at the law office? Are you a legal secretary?” Her tone might be genuine, but she's practically aching for me to tell her that is what I am so she would be more successful than me.

“I am actually a Partner at a law firm in Chicago.” I smile back at them with the same smile I had used for a long time. It's a stable job, a good job, a well-paying job. It was the job Claire had dreamed of. At least it feels kind of like I got something for her.

“Who's that “delicious arm candy” that I see on your Instagram?” Natasha asks me, eagerly. 

 “That's my fiancé. He couldn’t make it tonight. He’s working on a case. He’s also a lawyer but in a different department.” I sneak a glance at Wendy to gauge her reaction which looks pretty forced. My fiancé, Adam. He was always working on a case. I think the last time we ate a real dinner together was in September. It’s spring.

“Did you meet him at work?” Vanessa asks and playfully hits my arm. He was a different person then. He was a person who actually listened. He would’ve held me in his arms and told me that the memorial would be okay. Better yet, he would’ve been here, holding my hand through the difficult time. That person he was is long gone.

I nod. Then, they all squeal in the same way they did when I first told them I was dating Tom. I'm sure the king of “peaked in high school” is here somewhere.

“Well, good for you, Hayley. I’m so happy for you and everyone's successes. I’m going to go chat with some other guests. Make sure to use the backdrop and post on Insta okay? Talk to you all later!” Wendy waves and walks off, playing hostess. 

“Wendy is so nice. It's too bad they couldn't crown you and her homecoming queen, right Hayley? I mean she was so upset. It would've been better that way and then no one's feelings would get hurt.” Natasha was the most selfless person I knew and there was clearly no change there. She looks at me for approval after the other girls nod. I smile and shake my head too even though I kind of disagree. 

Something was always off with Wendy. However, looking back, I don’t know why we cared so much about that stupid crown, even Claire. I was surprised that she even wanted to run. Sometimes I forget that she did because I’m pretty sure she got the least amount of votes. She wasn’t upset though. She was just happy that I won. I’m not sure if I really even cared about the crown though. I just kind of went with it because everyone expected me to win. The only part of winning that made me happy was knowing how loved I was. I kind of feel bad that I abandoned these people so long ago. They were everything to me, my every day, just ten years ago. 

Tom makes his way onto the gym floor after hopping down from the stage. I see him as his 18-year-old self doing that. He used to jump down and land so close to me to scare me into thinking he was going to land on me. He never did of course.

“Hayley Galson? Well, if I don’t believe my eyes!” He strides over to me with a big smile. I put my hand on my friend's shoulder and let them know I’ll be back. They all side-eye Tom but go back to their conversation that I stopped paying attention to minutes ago. When I reach Tom, it feels comfortable, normal, like this was us meeting in gym class on a normal day.

“Tom, how are you?” I smile at him and remember the first time I talked to him which was after one of our Volleyball games in this very gym. I was talking to Claire, all excited about our big win. It was the first one of our senior year. Claire said hi to him first and then introduced me since they had a class together. He congratulated me and told me how great I played. We made a date for soon after and I remember thinking how crazy it was that he asked me out.

“Don’t hit me with the formalities, Hayley. You’re looking good all these years later.” He eyes me up and down. I shift uncomfortably and look around to see if anyone sees him and how awkward I feel about his actions. I can’t take his eyes on me anymore, I need to go. Maybe I can work on my speech for Claire. I think about the notes app that I opened for it, still blank. Chances are I am going to be first or last in the line of speeches, not that anyone else would have anything to say.

“Okay, Tom. Well, I’m going to go over there and say hi to some people. You have a good night.” I turn to leave and try to quicken my pace so he can’t follow me.

“Bye Hayley! I hope we get to talk again later!” He’s practically yelling across the gym to me and all I want to do is hide. More people might come up to me if they know I’m here.

“Hayley! Will you be speaking about Claire? I really hope you will. It will be great to have someone who knew her really well.” Wendy’s voice is like a ringing in my ear and all I can think about is the blue and red flashing lights. 

I still can’t believe it was her idea to have a memorial for Claire during the ten-year reunion. She barely knew Claire. Well, only the Volleyball team really knew her. I’d like to think I knew her best. I wish I could’ve been there when she needed me most.

“Umm, I plan on it. I’m just still thinking about what I want to say.” I look around the room to avoid eye contact with Wendy. I don’t want to talk about this at all, especially not with her.

“I’m sure whatever you pick will be perfect. I’m going to get on the stage in a minute or so to begin the memorial.” Wendy smiles before walking off. She gets stopped by a few people and I’m starting to feel overwhelmed so I know it's the perfect time to escape to the bathroom.

I reach the other end of the gym when suddenly, the lights go out. I whip around to face the center but I can’t see anything. I slowly back up until I hit a wall. People are murmuring to each other. 

“What's going on?” I hear a female’s voice from somewhere in the gym, but I don't know from where or who. 

When the lights finally come back on, Tom is bleeding out in the center of the gym. Oh my god. Tom is bleeding in the center of the gym. This can’t be happening. This can't be happening. I feel like I’m reliving Claire’s death all over again and in the same building. I want to leave, but all the people near the edges of the room are like a blockade. I start gasping for air in this highly populated space. I know people are screaming from the looks on their faces, but everything seems fuzzy. I try to pull people apart to get to fresh air, but it's nearly impossible. My body is pushed and I end up facing Tom again. I think I am going to be sick. Tom is choking on his own blood as it oozes from his stomach and runs down the rest of his body.

Everyone seems to be in slow motion as people go up to the body, cower into each other, whine, and scream. I need to get out of here. I can’t do this. I can’t see this again. I turn to try to leave again and use my strength to push past the people's bodies. It's like a brick wall. All I can see now is Tom’s body. My vision starts to become blurry the longer I look at him. Tom is gone. Tom is dead. Yet another person has died within these walls. I can’t be in this school or come back here ever again. I need to get out of here. Why can’t I get to the door?

Someone from the clump of people behind me finally gets the gym doors open and we scramble out like a sea of school fish escaping from a fisher's net. I need to get outside. I need to get some air. I cling to my throat and stumble trying to make it to the hallway for any hope of seeing an outside light. I finally make it to one of the doors that leads outside. I push and push, but they don’t budge. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. I start making my way around to the main doors as I struggle to breathe. My vision is still slightly blurry and I think I might pass out. Jonah must've touched Tom’s body. He’s now at the main doors, banging on the glass and leaving bloody handprints on the small rectangular windows.

I’m in the same entryway, but it's five years ago and I am with Claire. We broke in so we could walk around and see our old high school classrooms. It was fun. It might've been dark, but everything felt so safe. Claire and I had split up because she wanted to see the old mock trial room and I wanted to check out the art room. After that, I went to the gym. The halls were filled with our laughter until all I heard were my sobs. She must’ve screamed. She had to. How could I not hear anything? When I left the gym and came to meet Claire at the front doors, I found her lifeless body bleeding out onto the marble white floors with sprinkles of green and our school's mascot in the middle, a giant green-scaled snake. 

Someone had killed my best friend, stabbed her, and ran away. I knelt down near her body. She had already stopped breathing. She was already dead and I could’ve stopped it. I could’ve saved her. I called the police and my bloody hand prints were all over the floor. I held her hand as the EMTs tried to bandage her up and stop the bleeding, but it was too late. She was gone. They put that white cloak over her body and her killer was never caught. 

I can’t believe this is happening again. I should’ve never come back to this murderous school. I just wanted to honor Claire and give her the goodbye she never got at the memorial that never happened and will probably never happen. Now, it feels like I’m reliving everything all over again. My breaths are sharp and it feels like little air is reaching my lungs. Everyone has clamored out towards the main doors, Jason pushes past me and tries to get the doors open.

“The doors are locked. None of the doors are open. Someone get something to use as a battering ram,” Jason, starts gathering Jonah and other ex-football players to bust open the doors but they don’t budge. I guess they finally worked in those security measures to keep out intruders and school shooters. Jonah grabs one of the karate dummies and Greg, another ex-football player grabs a toolbox.

“Does anyone have a signal? I don’t have a signal!” Vanessa holds up her phone and waves it around dramatically. A few other people do the same, but no luck. There’s no signal, just perfect. My breathing slows down as I sit against the walls and my vision slowly comes back to normal.

“Someone in this room is a murderer! How could any of you kill Tom? Especially for drama that was probably ten years old!” Wendy cries out and shoves her face into her husband’s chest. He lifts up a hand to comfort her as he looks around, assumingly for anyone suspicious.

“I’m getting out of here!” Mackenzie, Wendy’s friend who was on the cheer team, runs out from the entryway to probably hide from the murderer. Others do the same. Jason and a few other guys are still working on the doors, but they begin to look at each other as if each one is a killer.

“How are we supposed to know who the murderer is?” Jonah asks. Everyone looks around with untrusting looks in their eyes. He slowly puts down his karate dummy-battering ram. “Well, I’m not going to stick around to find out.” He takes off down the hallway to hide and others seem to do the same. I’m still frozen in place as I watch the remaining people find safety in classrooms. All I can see behind Jason’s feet is Claire’s lifeless body.

“Hayley, why are you still out here? You should be hiding with the others. I’m going to keep working on getting the doors open, but if that doesn’t work, I’ll try a classroom window.” Jason continues on the door and I start towards a classroom to lock myself in, but then I stop.

I don’t know what to do. Claire is dead. Tom is dead. Both were killed just rooms next to each other. I’m in the same building as a murderer again! Jason is still there trying to get the doors open to no avail. Could-? No, there's no way…  but, maybe? This sounds insane, but everything is insane right now. Could the person who murdered Claire be the same person who murdered Tom? I need to know. I need to find out the truth of what happened to Claire.

I turn towards the gym and stop again. What’s wrong with me? This is insane. I can’t be a detective. I don’t want to get anywhere near Tom’s dead body. I would rather lock myself in a classroom until someone else finds a way out. I would throw up at the sight of another dead body. Plus, I’m more of a “behind the scenes” type of girl.

I have to do this. I can do this, for Claire. She deserves justice and I think I'm the only person dedicated enough to get that for her. I’ve never done anything like this before though. I could get killed. Maybe I shouldn’t do this. Oh my god! I’m making myself crazy. No one is going to do this, but me. It's what I need to do. I brace myself to reenter the gym. 

If I’m going to solve a murder, I’ll have to look at the body for evidence to figure out exactly what happened when he died, if he was stabbed multiple times, and any other clues.

I slowly walk into the gym and grab the broom that was leaning against the wall. I don’t know what I'm expecting. Tom is going to come to life and attack me? He’s dead. Also, if his murderer is lurking around to get me and they have a knife, I am stopping no one with this broom. When I reach his body, I poke it with the brush side of the broom. I was just checking! You never know! 

I look at his stomach. I hold my hand to my mouth trying not to vomit. I back up again and whine to myself. My breathing is getting caught in my throat again. I step closer again and peer down. I think he was stabbed with a knife, but I can’t really know for sure. Maybe someone brought a knife with them? However, no one brought big bags and most of the girls brought wallet-sized purses. It would be kind of hard to fit a knife in there. I decide to check out the cafeteria to see if any big knives are missing. I look around quickly, then slowly back up, keeping my eyes on Tom’s body as a tear slowly runs down my face. Of course, I don’t think he was the best guy, but I certainly didn’t want him to die. 

When I open the gym doors, a shaking body lurking around the corner makes me jump. I hold up the broom towards the mysterious figure in defense. As I get closer, I see it's Vanessa. She jumps a little but sighs when she realizes it's just me.

“Oh my god Hayley, I thought you were the murderer checking to make sure Tom’s body was actually going cold.” She looks around a bit before peaking at Tom’s body behind me.

“No, I thought you were the killer too! I’m actually trying to… solve the murder. I know, I know it's crazy. I don’t know what's wrong with me. I can’t even look at blood without feeling the need to puke, but I think Tom’s murder might be connected to Claire’s.”

“Oh my god. That would make sense. Well, I’m coming with you because I lost the other girls and I don’t want to wander alone anymore, but if we see the killer I am bolting. I will not be getting closer or taking off his hood to reveal his identity like in the movies.” She holds her arm up in defense with a “just warning you now” attitude.

“That's totally okay. I don’t think I can get that close either. I was just going to check out the kitchen for any missing knives. I think Tom was stabbed.”

Vanessa puts her hand over her mouth and with a fearful expression gestures for me to walk ahead so she can stay behind me.

We finally make it to the cafeteria and it's very dark. The sound of the fridge running makes it even eerier. I fumble around to find the light switch and turn it on. We slowly walk through as the cooking area is unfortunately all the way in the back. Suddenly, boxes on the side that say “frozen pizza” begin shaking. I hold up the broom I have been holding for ten minutes now and brace myself as the rumbling gets louder. Not that I actually want it to be, but that better be a bunch of mice. Vanessa hides behind me holding onto my shoulders.

The boxes fall forward and some girl who was on the cheer time scrambles out as if she was drowning amongst the boxes. I scream as she stables herself.

“Oh my god! Are you the killer? Don’t kill me please!” She backs up towards the boxes.

“No. You scared us so badly!” I put my hand over my heart in an attempt to steady its racing. I hear Vanessa sigh behind me.

“Are you kidding? You're the ones that scared me! Why are you two lurking around all creepily like killers?” She doesn’t give me a chance to respond before she folds her arms and stomps out of the kitchen. Then, she scrambles out of the cafeteria and runs down the hallway. 

We make it to the back of the cafeteria where all the cooking utensils are. I look at the kitchen block and the biggest knife is missing. I check the sink to make sure it wasn’t put in there by a lunch lady for cleaning. Nothing. Vanessa checks the drying rack. I look up at her and she shakes her head. Also nothing. That means the killer still has the knife and that's most likely the knife used to kill Tom. 

“I can’t believe that I actually got this far, without completely passing out,” I tell Vanessa slightly joking, but also not. I think I figured out that the kitchen knife is the murder weapon, but I don’t know where to go from here. 

“No same, though I think I came close with Jenny.”

“Who?”

“The cheerleader from behind the boxes.”

I slowly nod in realization, then move on. “There were no bloody footprints or any evidence. We have no leads. Where do we even go from here?” I realize what a brick wall we’ve hit in this case and my stomach turns making me feel like the only way out of this is death.

Vanessa shakes her head and looks around wearily.

 Why did I even come? I’m not skilled enough to do this. Once I have the killer, I draw out a confession. How am I supposed to find a killer? I’m going to kill Lindsay and Kevin for making me come to this stupid reunion.

I had just gotten off the phone with Wendy after she attempted to convince me to go to the reunion. I was hesitant, reasonably because of Claire. Lindsay and Kevin just came to talk, but they easily began to persuade me.

“What was that about? Was it Adam? Is he blowing off another date night?” Lindsay asked me with a disappointed face that I knew all too well.

“No, that was Wendy. She was a cheerleader from my high school who is now planning our ten-year reunion. It's this weekend, but I don't know if I should go. It would be great to see some people, but I don’t know if I want to get sucked back into that world. It's also going to be a memorial for Claire which is nice and all, but I don’t know if it's worth going back into that school.” I had looked at the invitation in my email. It was fancy with our school colors, green and gold. Silver letters spelled out the details.

“Don’t you want to remember what it was like to be ‘little miss popular?’ Ugh, I would’ve killed to be homecoming queen at my school.” Kevin seemed to have stars in his eyes as he pretended to place an invisible crown on his head. Lindsay hit his arm and looked at me with a serious expression. These two were the only good thing about this killer job. They made me laugh through all the stressful late-night work sessions. I use Claire as the only other motivation. She should’ve been living this dream. I have to do it, for her.

“It also won’t be the same without Claire. Plus, I don’t want to hear everyone's condolences or that sympathetic look in their eyes.” I just knew the second I walked into the gym, people would frown at me, sympathetically. Maybe I’d get a few casseroles five years too late.

“Yeah, that makes sense. You also haven’t been home in five years since the funeral. Maybe go and see some old friends. I’m sure they would love to see you and hear about your successes. Plus, you would be honoring Claire. There's likely no avoiding speaking since you were her best friend, but don’t you want to show people everything that made her special?” Lindsay smiled reassuringly while Kevin still gawked over his fake crown. As much as they made me laugh, they were also good at advice.

“What if I go to the twenty-year reunion?” I had offered, as a plea deal.

“Come on, girl. Weren’t you voted most likely to succeed, or something? Show them everything you’ve built here. You’re a Partner at Sullivan and Mars, have a hot rich lawyer fiancé, and you have the perfect house. Ooh, take pictures to show them! You can talk about the dream wedding you’re planning too. And I guess of course, memorate your deceased friend,” Kevin held up the picture on my desk of me and Adam from our summer vacation in the Caribbean. Lindsay had hit him in the arm for his arguably rude comment, but I know it's just Kevin being Kevin.

“We don't actually own the house yet, Kev. But, yeah, I guess I could talk about how great Claire is - was at the memorial. I followed Claire’s dreams for her so everyone could see how successful she would’ve been and I guess I can reunite with the girls from my Volleyball team. Alright, alright, I’ll call Wendy back.” I picked up the phone and glanced back at the number on the invitation.

“Slay! Well, meet you in the breakroom!” Kevin called back as the two exited and I dialed the phone to what felt like certain doom.

The next day, I boarded the plane and sat quietly in my seat alone. I looked at the message from Adam: Have a good flight, dear. Enjoy your friend's party. I wasn’t going to remind him that it wasn’t a party or bring up my worries. He would tell me to forget about it and he wouldn’t even register that I called it a reunion. He’s too distracted. I guess he doesn’t need an excuse to get out of date night this week. I would say I wish he were coming too, but I would rather have the old Adam come with me, not lawyer extraordinaire soon-to-make-partner Adam.

I had shut off my phone and my mind flooded with memories from high school. All I was able to think about was going back without Claire. I also thought people would ask me if I killed Claire. The eyes on me at her funeral were either sympathy or judgment. Yes, I was the only other person with Claire. However, there was clearly someone we didn’t know about lurking around. How could anyone think I would kill my best friend? I wish I knew who did though.

Back in the hallway after noticing the knife was missing, Vanessa and I walk towards the theater. I’m not sure why, but I feel like that's an easier place for a killer to hide since there are so many props and sets. When I open the doors, Wendy’s friend Mackenzie is sprawled out, limbs in all different directions. No, no no. There can’t be another dead body.

“Nope, nope.” I hear Vanessa starting to get nervous behind me and she backs up.

A rush of nausea moves into my throat making me gag. More blood, I should’ve known there would be more blood. I start to lose my breath again and everything is looking hazy. I back up until I hit the opened door to the theater. Vanessa is just outside the door sitting on a bench and crying.

 Mackenzie was stabbed, just like Tom and the blood is spilling everywhere. I gag again and grab onto the door for support. Wendy appears on the stage and cries out bloody murder. She runs down the stairs and comes towards Mackenzie’s body. She slowly bends down in the same way I did with Tom. She cries a little. 

“Hayley? Can you do something for me?” I can barely hear her as my ears make everything sound far away. Wendy looks up at me with tearful eyes and I’ve never felt worse for her. She lost her best friend and high school love. Well, I assume they were in love, they dated for the rest of the summer after they went to Prom together.

“Anything.” I smile sympathetically at her and try to take steps forward as my legs start to shake. I regret my sympathetic face fast because I know I never liked getting that look when my best friend died. Plus, being this close to Mackenzie’s body is making my hands shake and my eyes twitch. She hasn’t done anything that I know of that constitutes being murdered.

“Can you take a picture of me? This is the most authentic cry I’ve had in years. I can totally use it for my portfolio.” She smiles through her tears, looking more psychotic than ever.

She can’t be serious. I slowly move forward and grab her phone before backing up again, not wanting to be too close to Mackenzie’s body. I raise my eyebrows at her: partly judgmentally and partly confused. I take pictures of her and she changes poses a few times. I make sure not to get Mackenzie’s body in the picture because this impromptu photo shoot is weird enough from Wendy, and I think if I see that I will actually puke. I can barely stand up straight. When I assume I’ve taken enough pictures I hand the phone back to Wendy and she beams as she scrolls through them. I back up to be completely held up by the theater door.

“These are good. Maybe you should become a photographer.” She continues scrolling and doesn't even look up at me.

I don’t know if that's a genuine compliment or if she is just saying that so I leave my successful lawyer job that makes me a good amount of money. I don’t get to think much harder about it because Wendy gasps dramatically. I jolt from the random reaction. I assume it might have to do with one of the photos, but then she cries out. 

“The killer is targeting populars! I must be next!” She starts taking anxiety-driven breaths, like a child. Did this girl grow up at all? However, it starts to make me wonder. Could she be right? Was the killer actually targeting “populars?” That could be a good lead for me. It kind of sucks that it came from Wendy though.

“Or the killer is targeting people that have wronged her… Maybe the killer is you. What a perfect way to throw everyone off suspicion by choosing to be the detective.” She slowly starts backing up towards the stage door. 

“My best friend was literally murdered. I’m just trying to figure out what happened to her. Plus, why would I wish that trauma on anyone?” I stand up a little straighter as I watch her back up, scared of me for the first time. My eyes slowly settle because the fear is becoming confusion.

“Well just because your little sidekick died doesn't mean mine needed to!” She folds her arms. Sidekick? Claire was so much more than a sidekick. I would never even think to call her that. Is that the way everyone else saw her too?

“I have no idea why any of this is happening Wendy. If I could stop it, I would.” I hope she can see how genuine I’m being. These murders are stressing me out and bringing back so much pain. Regardless of how people saw Claire, she didn’t deserve to die.

“Weren’t you the only one with her? How do we know you didn't kill Claire?” Her distance gives her more confidence than she's ever had over me. She finally reaches the door, but her foot steps into the hallways making her half in and half out. Before I can answer, she mumbles something about not wanting to find out before closing the door and sprinting down the hallway to another part of the school, possibly with her husband to stay protected.

It’s one of the worst types of pain, if not the worst. I just don’t understand how anyone could suspect me of killing my best friend. I still don’t even know how the rumors started. People said that I was the only one in the building with her. People also said that Claire lived in my shadow and I prevented her from truly thriving, but those people didn’t know Claire and they didn’t know our friendship. It doesn’t matter. I’m not a killer. I should’ve died that night. Claire didn’t deserve any of that. It still makes no sense. No one could have a vendetta against her. She was the sweetest person in the world. I think someone was trying to get to me and accidentally found her, they wanted to get rid of any witnesses, or they wanted to pin it all on me.

I realize Mackenzie’s frail body is still right in front of me. Her blood seems kind of fresh if I even know what fresh blood looks like, but it's not dried. I look at her body for any marks and nausea bubbles in my stomach from being this close. She was stabbed like Tom, but nothing else gives me anything to go off of. My hazy eyes somehow manage to get me back into the hallway where I find Vanessa again. I continue wandering the halls in the hopes of catching something, anything to help me. I plop down on the bench next to her, I can’t save anyone, most of all Claire.

“I can't do this. I can't solve a murder. I don’t even have my life together. I’ll never get justice for Claire.” I don’t know when the tears start falling, but they do.

Vanessa puts her arm around my shoulder as I cry into the crook of her arm.

“Oh, Hayley. No one expects you to solve this thing. It isn’t your job. You can find justice for Claire another way, without putting your life at risk.”  Vanessa’s voice is calm. She must’ve relaxed somehow after being away from Mackenzie’s body. She was probably pretending she didn’t see it like I wish I could do with the three dead bodies burning into my mind. I don’t even know what to say to her. I’ll sound pathetic.

“I've been working so hard to be successful, not just with solving this murder, but with work, my life, everything.” I can't look at her. I'm so ashamed. People would be so happy if they were in my position in life. They would still definitely be sad with the tragic loss, but they could live happily with everything else.

“What do you mean? You seriously don’t have to solve Tom’s murders or Claire’s, Nancy Drew. Plus, I’m sure this has already triggered some past feelings about Claire. You deserve to be hiding more than anyone else.” Vanessa hugs me, but the shifting of her body tells me she's looking around. It makes sense because there is still a murderer in this building. However, there are still things I need to get off my chest. The tears are warm as I feel them run down my cheek, wishing to escape from my eyes.

“I thought if I could piece together Tom's murder. Maybe I could figure out what happened to Claire. I'm awful at it, like actually awful, and it's not enjoyable whatsoever. I don’t know how anyone enjoys those crime shows and if I’m being honest, I dislike it almost as much as being a lawyer.” My hand shoots up towards my mouth. I can't believe I just said that. I’ve never uttered those words out loud before. I feel a little lighter like I removed a heavy weight from my chest. I hate being a lawyer! Shit. This is so not the time.

“I guess their deaths could be connected, but I don’t think that's something you can just figure out. That's a lot to put on yourself, Hayley. Wait, what? You don’t like being a lawyer? But you've worked so hard. You've spent eight years of your life getting there and you’ve worked so hard that you’re now a Partner. That's so impressive. I wish I could do what you do!” She leans back blinking from how stunned she is.

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, Vanessa. I really don’t, but god, it's so not worth the stress I go through every day. I'm constantly worried about doing everything perfectly I can't risk making any mistakes. I think I've been living that way since high school. Claire wanted to be a lawyer and I just feel like if I was the one left to live, I should live for her, y’know? And-and my shitty fiancé, he doesn’t even know where I am right now because he can't fucking listen. He’s so focused on being a power couple and being promoted that he doesn’t even focus on the “couple” part. We haven’t eaten dinner together in months and we have nothing in common other than that we are lawyers. We can't talk about anything. I don’t love him. How could I love him? Were such different people.” My rambling has turned into a full-blown meltdown as I choke out the words between sobs. “I'm so sorry, V. I shouldn't have just dumped all that on you right now. You don’t need that right now.” I feel so embarrassed and awkward. How did I just dump years of trauma on someone that I haven't spoken to in practically ten years?

“It's okay, Hayley. You seemed like you really needed to get that out and I guess it took a near-death experience for you to see everything clearly.” Though she is clearly overwhelmed and can't fathom that someone in my position could not feel practically any happiness, she tries her best to reassure me.

I still don’t know exactly what I'm doing, but I know a killer is still out there and they’re going to pick us off one by one. I need to find out what's going on because I know it's going to lead me to answers about Claire.

“I understand, but I don’t think I can help you anymore. I really don’t want to get stabbed.”

“I understand, V.”  I hug Vanessa goodbye. “Stay hidden.” 

Then, I head to the Chemistry classroom. It’s supposed to have an emergency fire window for chemical emergencies so I assume that's where Jason went to try to get out and find help. Luckily, I don’t come across any more dead bodies or people blaming me for the murders on the way. After heading down the stairs and following the long hallways of what feels like a ghost town, I make it to the Chemistry class.

This classroom used to be a fun place. I remember one time coming in with Claire. We had been laughing about some stupid thing Tom had said. It seems unimportant now, but it seemed like everything back then. We sat at the desks and gossiped before the bell cut us off. 

“Remember to wear your goggles and gloves. I am not putting anyone in the chemical shower today.” Our chemistry teacher, Mr. Brosnan was never good at speaking anything but formally most of the time. However, he always found ways to joke with Claire and me. We were his best students so I think he had a special place in his heart for us.

“It may look purple girls, but it's not grape juice so don’t think about drinking it.”

“You think we would actually do that?” We were offended, by his little faith in us. We were top students for a reason. We knew basic Chemistry edict. It didn’t smell like grape juice either. It kind of smelt like seaweed. Claire and I joked that if we closed our eyes, we could pretend we were at the beach.

“Of course not, grape juice is the worst-tasting medicine. I would hope you girls have better taste than that.” He didn’t even crack a smile, but we knew his humor at this point.

Claire had looked away and knocked the tube of chemicals which caused it to spill onto my arm. We didn't have lab coats at our school and I was wearing a t-shirt and shorts because of the warm weather so it ended up getting on my skin. I reeked of seaweed within minutes.

“You guys give me more work.” Mr. Brosnan groaned before sending me into the chemical shower. Everyone thought it was the coolest thing since no one had used it before and they were happy to see it used on someone who wasn't them. When I finally emerged sopping wet, he told me to head to the nurse to get checked out and dry off. 

“Would I have died if I let it seep into my skin without washing it off?” I sniffed my arm to see if I would smell like seaweed forever.

“No, you would get a chemical burn. The only way that mixture would kill you is if you added a certain enzyme and it entered your body through swallowing or injection. If it were in your bloodstream with that enzyme, you wouldn't last too long. 

I reenter the classroom and it has a gloomier look to it, especially when I knew it as such a lighted place. There's a station set up, but only one. I'm surprised Mr. Brosnan would let a student get away with not cleaning up. The liquid in the flask was purple and I wonder if he was doing the same experiment that Claire and I had done that day. I make my way to the emergency window which I can see from across the room is still sealed. 

A few feet in front of the window is another body, Jason. I cover my mouth in horror and slowly back up. He's not bleeding. There's no stab wound. The killer had used a different method, but why? Nothing makes sense anymore. However, the sight of another body leaves a tightening feeling in my chest.

I practically run out of the hallway, not sure what to do with my new information and evidence. There are no signs of anyone anywhere and I have the overwhelming feeling to not be alone right now. I head back to the entrance to the theater where I had left Vanessa earlier, but she's gone. I did tell her to hide so that makes sense. I don’t want any more of my friends to die. I don’t want anyone to die, not even Wendy. At least she might feel better now that the killer isn't just targeting popular kids anymore. I hate to say it, but Jason was a bit of a geek. I thought he was cool! He just didn't really vibe with a lot of people. He was quite a loner who buried himself in his textbooks.  I run into Wendy in the hallway and I'm just happy to see another human. Her eyes go wide and she backs away from me.

“Wendy! I'm so glad to see you. I don’t want to be alone right now. I just found Jason dead in the Chemistry room.” 

Wendy covers her mouth and continues to back away. “Stay away from me, Galson. I mean it, stay away.”

“Wendy, are you serious? It's not me. I'm not the killer.” I hold up my arms in defense, but she doesn’t believe me and takes off down the hallway. This time I follow her because we need to stay in pairs or groups. Her excitement was way more minimal than expected. 

Wendy grabs a screwdriver from the pile of tools near the main door. “Stay back, Galson I mean it.” 

I stop abruptly. “Wendy, you can't seriously think I would kill someone?”

“You were the only person there with Claire that night, Hayley, the only person. There was no sign of anyone else. Am I supposed to believe the person left no footprints and nothing turned up on the cameras?” She holds the screwdriver towards me to keep me back.

“Those cameras are shitty and capture absolutely nothing.” I fold my arms and stand my ground. She is being ridiculous. Yes, there's a murderer, but there's no point in being her normal idiotic self.

“They fixed them a few years back. I bet it shows you stabbing Tom.” Wendy runs off again and I wonder if there's any chance the killer didn't wipe the cameras. 

I head to the office which is pitch black. I maneuver my way to the security cameras section. I've never been more scared of the dark than at this very moment. There could be people hiding here, even a killer.

I finally get to the computer and turn it on. Fuck. A passcode. I don’t know the passcode. Thankfully, the username is filled in. This seems too easy, but I type in the school's name uppercase and the screen lights up into a dark-ish shade of blue. I find the tapes for tonight and expect them to be whipped over or see some pixels, but that's not the case. The one from the gym is completely black because the lights were out, but I can still hear talking and the screams. I click on the Chemistry hallway camera. There's not much of anything. 

There's people running down the hallway, clearly looking for somewhere to hide. Then, I notice someone in one of those black suits that frames to your whole body. They are also wearing a hood. They fiddle with the handle of the Chemistry door. They seem to be looking around in the hopes of not being seen. Suddenly, the hood falls and curly brown hair sprawls out. The woman looks at the camera before putting her hood back on. It can’t be. I rewind the tape and pause on the woman's face. It’s blurry with some pixels, but it still looks like her. She’s dead. It can’t be her. Someone's messing with me, or I’m not seeing clearly. The murders are getting to my head. It has to be someone that looks like her. I literally watched her die. I shake off the feeling and decide to head back to the Chemistry classroom.

When I arrive, my hand slowly touches the door. I look up at the security camera. The killer was right here, trying to pretend that she was my dead childhood best friend. Special effects makeup is a thing. It could easily be a man disguised as a woman. I finally open the door. As I get closer, I see Jason's body still on the floor. I examine the equipment. Maybe I'll see a fingerprint. It’s not like I can test it, but maybe if I save it they can test it later. I examine the flask filled with the liquid. I breathe in the smell of seaweed. Then, I notice something I didn't the last time I was in here. A cup is underneath the table by Jason’s head. I take a whiff and it reeks of seaweed. There's a purple-stained ring at the bottom of the cup. Someone poisoned Jason. Maybe he would be happy to know he died through science. The nostalgic memory mixed with the sight of a dead body makes a gurgling noise in my stomach.

What's going on? Who would make this experiment? I leave the classroom again and march down the hallway. I begin to hear sirens and the police finally arrive. I watch as Tom, Mackenzie, and Jason’s lifeless bodies are removed from the school and put into an ambulance. Then, the cops begin questioning everyone.

“You saw all the bodies. They were all stabbed?” The cop stays stern, not a sign of sympathy. 

“No. Jason, the final body was poisoned.” I put my arms around myself in comfort. It’s all over, but it really isn’t.

“You're confident in this and the order?” The cop looks at me unsure but scribbles in his little notebook.

“I am sure. I just don’t know who is responsible.” I know this has the potential to weigh on me for years. I need answers.

“Well, run the flask for prints and see if we get anything.” His face is still expressionless, not giving any indication of if he blames me or believes me.

I leave the school empty handed, but at least I’m leaving with something, a plan to change everything.

I spend the next few weeks in and out of interrogation rooms from Wendy’s claims, but they have nothing to hold me with so I’m able to go home soon after. This also delayed the fingerprint test because they were more focused on proving me guilty for the sake of making their lives easier.

I hold the box in my hand that contains all the personal items from my office. It feels weird as I close the door. I won’t be sitting there tomorrow, the next day, or the day after.

“Please tell me you’re not really leaving? Is it April Fools? Lindsay? Tell me it's April Fools!” Kevin first shakes my shoulders then moves onto Lindsay’s before pinching himself as to wake up from a bad dream.

“It’s not April Fools, Kev.” Lindsay gives him a small smile before looking at me. “This place is so not going to be the same without you.” 

Kevin nods feverishly.

“I appreciate that, but I was never meant to be here. I was too busy following through on someone else's dream.” I couldn’t live for her anymore.

“Promise we'll go to lunch sometime and that way we can fill you in on the latest work gossip?” Kevin pleads, frowning.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Please don’t fall off the deep end now that you’ve seen numerous dead bodies,” Lindsay says the last two words quietly as that is not a word you want to hear in a law office. “I will be calling to check on you at least once a day.”

“Sounds perfect.” I hug them goodbye. It feels liberating to leave this place and I feel like I’m not truly losing Kevin and Lindsay so I think I’ll be okay. Up next was Adam and I knew he would not be taking the news lightly. Especially, because he likes to use our relationship as a way to become more successful at the office.

“I don’t understand, babe. We’re the perfect couple?” He had finally looked up from his laptop in the office he did not want me entering between the hours of 8 pm and 6 am. Suspicious if you ask me.

“We’re perfect in appearances, but we don’t talk. We never talk. We’re basically together for the pictures and that's it. You don’t even try.” The words come out simply as facts. I stand in the doorway ready to leave at a moment's notice. There's nothing he can say to change my mind.

“That is not true. I love you.” He crosses over to me, grabs my arm, and pleads at me to not end things.

“Oh, we’re love bombing now, 'cause that's healthy.” I roll my eyes unfazed and leave his apartment. I'm so glad we haven't officially moved in together yet and that I didn't end the lease on my apartment.

I get to the park, needing fresh air. I’ve been needing more and more of that since the memorial slash reunion. I have walked through the park every day since being on the unemployed list. I am still trying to figure out what I want to do. My phone rings and the area code tells me it's Imads without a second thought.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Glason? We ran the test on that flask and we have some weird and slightly disturbing news. Most of the guys think our system has to have goofed up, but I don’t think it did. The fingerprints on the flask belong to your late friend, Claire.”

I drop the phone and all the sounds begin to echo, but also become far away. That can't be. Claire is dead. I saw her. I saw everything. That can’t be right. Claire is not walking this Earth. I saw her bleed out. I saw everything. The cameras. I saw her on the cameras. This can’t be happening.

“Ms. Galson? Are you still with me?” His voice is still stern, but a little less emotionless than it was at the reunion.

I barely make out the single faraway voice. I pick up the phone, but my hands are shaking. “Yes. I'm with you. Can you repeat whose fingerprints are on the flask?” I hold my breath. I must've heard him wrong. I had to. I had to. I had to.

“Your deceased friend Claire’s fingerprints are the only thing that comes up in our system.” He says it as if he’s not talking about a dead girl. How can he be so calm?

When I get home, I throw my stuff on the couch and run to the kitchen to basically chug some vodka. I suddenly notice something on my kitchen table. It's a cup that looks like grape juice. I don’t drink grape juice. I don’t own grape juice. I pick it up to smell it. Seaweed. My hands start shaking and I grip the edge of the counter. This can’t be happening. It's a message. It's a message from Claire. She was in my house and she is warning me.

Claire is alive. 

Claire murdered Jason and I think she murdered Mackenzie and Tom.

Claire faked her own death. 

I feel a sharp pain in my stomach and look down to see a circular blood stain on my shirt, getting larger. There is another sharp pain as what I can only assume is a knife being removed. I turn around and come face to face with Claire, the murderer I have been looking for.

The person who is now my murderer.

Her words echo in my brain. They are the last things I will ever hear and it's all I will hear as I go into oblivion. “How do you like your spotlight now?”

Her words break my heart into a million pieces. I will never get to avenge her death. I never needed to. She just needed to escape me. 

About the Author

Sammie is a senior English major with a concentration in Creative Writing and a minor in Media and Communications. During her time at Arcadia, Sammie was the secretary and president of both Sigma Tau Delta and Writer's Bloc. She was also the writer and director of Arcadia's Murder Mystery for two years. During her free time, Sammie enjoys watching movies and TV shows, reading, writing, and hanging out with her friends. Sammie is very excited to have her manuscript published in Quiddity.