Confessions of a Teenage Murder Victim

"Hi. My name is Annabelle Marie Davids. I'm 17 years old, born October 12th 1995, died January 18th 2013. Well, to be brutally honest, I was murdered." Annabelle was your average teenage girl. She had it all; the boyfriend, the parties, the looks and the popularity. Her parents even had the money. Her life was perfect. So why was she killed? With the help of ALIS, the After Life Investigative Squad, Annabelle slowly discovers the bitter and twisted hatred which led to one of her "friends" to murder her.


3. Case No 27A

I nervously stepped through the doorway, my arms circling my stomach.

Some of the men gave me looks, their eyes running up and down my body. I became extremely self conscious of my short blood red dress and bare legs. The women raised their eyebrows as I walked past, straightening up their black suit jackets or dismissing me with a disgusted look.

I stared at the floor, following the Sergeant as he strode between the cubicles; dodging the workers and the lost souls.

I kept bumping into people, and apologising before quickly walking to catch him up.

He lead me into a small private room, with windows overlooking the rest of the workers. Some of them still were staring at me through the windows till the Sergeant gave them a cold glare as he pulled down the blinds.

I sat down in a plain leather chair in front of the desk, my arms still encircling my stomach; holding myself together.

He walked around to sit in a high back leather office chair, and opened up a folder to read some papers. He sighed deeply and rubbed his temples as though he had a headache.

'Okay Miss Davids, I'll explain to you how we'll go about solving your case. Do you understand?' I licked my lips and nodded.

'Can... can you please call me Annie? I think... I'd feel a bit more comfortable.' I said nervously. He frowned at me.

'I appreciate keeping to formalities.' He said, his eyes colder than ice. I shivered and looked away.

Somehow, I'd begun to accept that I was dead. I still didn't believe that one of my friends killed me. I trusted every single one of my friends unequivocally. No questions asked. If I was in trouble, they'd help me. How could they kill me, when we'd been through so much together?

'Fine. But I know my friends would never hurt me-'

'Oh of course not. They didn't just hurt you, they killed you.' He spat out viscously. This was the first time I'd seen his eyes light up with any emotion, and it terrified me. I glared at him.

'You're wrong.' I said, my voice filled with conviction. He clenched his jaw angrily, his eyes boring into my skull.

'Oh am I?' He said, crossing his arms over his chest. 'Then explain to me, who did? If only your friends were at that party, then who murdered you?' 

'I don't know. But it wasn't them. Something else happened; somebody else k-killed me.' My voice wavered over the word. He sighed and closed his eyes, taking calming breaths.

'I don't care what you think. My job is to solve the case, that's all. But don't be disappointed when I prove you wrong.

'Your Case Number is 27A; I'm your case leader. This means I will be collecting evidence and leading interviews, then presenting the evidence at the Angel Courts. Understand?' He asked, looking up from his piece of paper.

'Mostly... you're my detective and legal representative. I just have one question, how are you going to interview them?' I asked, frowning.

'We appear in the dreams of the suspects and question them. In their dreams they are the most honest; they think they're imagining us, so suspect nothing. Also, we can look into their memories of the night. It is unlikely someone who killed somebody is going to forget it.'

'Okay... can I be there for the interviews?' I asked, leaning eagerly forward. This would be my chance to say good bye to my friends.

'No.' He said flatly, shuffling some papers as though I'd said nothing.

'Do you accept our investigation of your death?' He asked, bored. I sat back and folded my arms.

'No.' I said, repeating how he'd said it. He looked up and stared at me blankly. His eyes were so emotionless...

'Excuse me?' 

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