The Truth Behind Debra

Written In The Eyes Of A Girl In Year 3/4.
Nothing Special.


1. Part 1 of 1 [a short story]

The truth behind Debra.

Debra Wilson is the least popular girl at my school.

Everybody hate’s her.

Except for Polly Smith.

Well Polly did like her.

Until she disappeared.



Let me tell you from the beginning.

Let’s say it’s Monday.

On Mondays I got the school bus, I and I normally sat next to Polly smith.

But this Monday Polly didn’t get the bus, now normally if someone didn’t get the bus you would text them or call them to see where they were, or they would text you and tell you, but this takes place in a small village where there are no phones or computers and let’s say it’s 1934.


After about ten minutes of wondering why Polly didn’t get on the bus Debra Wilson gets on.

Now normally [notice I’m using the word normally a lot] Debra would just get on and sit at the back, without making eye contact or talking with anyone.

But today wasn’t normal.

When she got on she walked over to me and sat next to me,

‘’Polly won’t be getting the bus today’’ she said, and then walked of and sat at the back.

Now let me tell you, the way Debra said that scared me, she’d never talked to me before, and the tone in her voice was soft, sort of mean.


I didn’t find out that when she said that Polly wouldn’t be getting the bus yesterday, she meant,

‘Polly won’t be getting the bus today or ever again’.



That was 3 years ago; I’m in year 6 now.

Last year I found out what happened to Polly Smith.

One day in the summer I decided to take my dog ‘Harry’ out for a walk.

A long walk.

Well she walked me actually.

We ended up somewhere in a forest.

That’s when I noticed some police men and forensics taping some ‘do not enter, crime scene’ tape up.

‘’what’s going on’’ I ask one of the police men.

‘’yesterday we found a body, love’’ he said in a comforting tone.

Something like this had never happened in our town!

It’s scary but exciting at the same time.

‘’she would have been about your age’’ said the police man.

‘’really’’ I say,

‘’yes you might of even known her, she went by the name of Polly Smith’’

My jaw dropped.

‘’oh sorry didn’t mean to upset you love’’ he said.

‘’h, how did she die’’ I ask

‘’well, she was um, well, hit round the head and then she was brutally abused, on her body we found the initial’s D. W, you wouldn’t happen to know anyone with those initials’’ he said.

‘’Debra Wilson’’ I whispered.

‘’hey Steve this girl knows the victim and she might now who did it’’ he shouted over his shoulder.

A tall brown haired man walked over

‘’hello, love. I’m Steve, I believe you know the murderer’’.

‘’Debra Wilson’’ I say again, a little star struck.




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