The Cambridge Killer

Clarie is finding university hard enough without an escaped killer on the loose. girls are dissapearing for days, only for police to find their bodies raped and murdered in their own home. suspicious teachers and dying friends are getting too much to handle for clarie. will clarie find the muderer before he finds her?
this is for the crime scene comp. i hope you like it.

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2. 1

I dropped the paper in disgust, averting my eyes from it's garish cover. The headline screamed out at me "KATIE IS NUMBER 1" in its bold print, seemingly taunting me, daring me to read it's imposing article dripping with lies. I stare down at the smiling picture of Katie, and sub-conciously outline her chiseled cheekbones with my finger. A salty tear dropped from my eye onto the paper, smudging the ostentatious words they dared to print. Liers. All of them.

A knock on the door snapped me to my senses. "Come in." I croaked, my voice rough from lack of use. Hastily, I wiped my eyes as I saw Isabella's head peek around the door. Her eyes looked red and sore, probably reflecting mine. She stepped into my flat, taking in the mess that covered the carpet like a stained, crappy blanket. I picked up the newspaper with the tips of my fingers and held it out to her. She looked it wearily, so I forced into her hands.

"Whore. Thats what they called her." I stated, my voice emotionless. I watched Isabella's face as she read the article, as she studied the lines of lies and filth. Katie was murdered, for fucks sake! Yet they have the balls to state she slept with her attacker before he killed her. It's outrageous. Isabella made a noise that sounded like a sob and a growl, and then flung the paper to her side. The pages fluttered in the air like a summers butterfly before settling on the only clean spot in the room. I fiddled with the belt on my bath robe as she tried to compose herself. The translucent black gown bearly reached my thighs, but the only other thing I could be bothered to put on was my underwear.

"We better go." Isabella softly stated. "We've got half an hour before our first course starts."

I nodded numbly and made for the door, but Isabella stopped me as I was about to reach for the silver handle. She raised her eyebrows at me and then gestured to my half naked body. She then held me by the shoulders and directed me to the bathroom. Isabella turned the handle to the shower and a blast of hot water shot out of the head, making a drumming sound on the black tiles. She left the room, leaving me by myself. I stripped off the little clothes I was wearing and left them in a little pile on the floor.Clumsily, I stepped under the jetting water, letting it wash off days worth of dirt, sweat and tears. I studied the blue streaks in my blond hair, watching as the blue turned a couple of shades darker and the light blonde turned a burnt honey. I felt the ends of my hair tickle the back of my neck, I ran my hand through it, feeling the wet, spikey strands. I stood under the water for ten minutes before i stepped out, totally revitalised, and wrapped a fluffy purple towel around my body.

I walked out of the bathroom, leaving a trail of water droplets behind me. There was no sign of Isabella. Slowly I staunered over to my bedroom and flung open the door. On my bed, on top of the junk, was my outfit for today (chosen by isabella), and a little note from Isabella explaining that she'd left.

Twenty minutes had gone by before I was ready to leave. I glanced at the clock while hurriedly trying to stuff numerous textbooks into my bag. I then ran out of the door and slammed it shut behind me, before I rushed down the steps to my car. I slammed my foot on the accelarator, and made my way to the Cambridge University.

 

 

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