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.


9. Francis

A bright white light shone directly into my face all of a sudden, and I blinked harshly to try and reduce the glare, holding a hand in front of my eyes.

'Oh Davie, turn that silly thing off, you'll scare her!' A voice said, giggling shrilly.

'Gimme a break Frankie.' Davie said, the light wobbling from side to side. Then, it was turned off, and row after row of ceiling lights turned on as if by magic. 

'Well, looky here. At least this one has some style! Not like that last teenager we had in! Gosh, all grungy emo. I don't know what's going wrong with today's youth, honestly!' A short dark haired woman slinked towards me in high stiletto heels wearing a loose black jump suit. She'd bedecked herself with gold jewellery from head to toe, some of which was very gaudy, but she managed to pull it off. Her eyes were a dark chocolate brown, and her skin was evenly tanned. 

'Now, what's your name?' She asked, stopping only a few feet away from me, her eyes raking up and down my body, assessing me.

'Annabelle. Who are you?' I asked, crossing my arms and raising my eyebrows. I don't like being assessed like some piece of meat at a market, which is how a lot of guys look at me; not so much women, but it happens.

'Ooh, sassy. I like her.' She said, turning her head to throw her opinion back to a monstrously tall man wearing a black suit and shades. He looked as though he'd just jumped straight out of a detective movie. He must be Davie. He grunted, fiddling with a spotlight that looked as though it would be used in fashion photo-shoots. 

'My name is Francis Harrington, but you can call me Frankie. I'll call you Anna, Anna-belle is so much of a mouth full, don't you think?' I stood for a moment, unsure of this odd woman. She was so presumptuous and self-confident, perhaps too self confident.

'Well come along dear, we have to get you outfitted for the interviews tonight. Now, you're seeing your boyfriend and best friend tonight, so nothing too racy. If you get what I mean. Plus, Sergeant Anderson doesn't like that sort of thing. Last time I dressed a woman in some blood red lingerie to see her dearly alive husband he went off his rocker. Though he got a confession immediately. Stupid man too busy drooling over his sexy wife to think about secrecy.' She sighed dramatically.

'So many men murdering their wives these days. It's absolutely revolting. Why, when I was alive, men had more respect for women, wasn't that right Davie dear?' Davie grunted again, still fiddling with the spotlight. Francis grabbed my arm and started pulling me along with a surprising amount of strength for such a small woman.

'Now, I think blues and greens would suit your colouring, though I'm leaning towards the blues. Red doesn't look too bad I guess, but red suits brunettes a bit better than blondes. I've decided, blue it is.' She grinned, leading me into a large circular room with numerous oblong cut lines in the walls.

'Davie! Blue please!' She called back to him. He walked over to the entrance of the room, and swiped a card before entering a pin number. Suddenly, one of the oblong shapes on the wall flew out of the wall. Behind it was the longest rack of clothes I'd ever seen in some of the most beautiful shades of blue. My mouth fell open in surprise.

'Fabulous, isn't it? I got Michael to convince Gabriel to get them installed. Well worth the effort though. Before all of the clothes were scrunched into thousands of cardboard boxes. Much quicker this way, and Gabriel just adores efficiency.' She grinned at me before patting me on the arm to peruse the immense rack of clothing.

'Now, I don't think we should go for dresses, its a bit early on in the year for all of that now isn't it? I do wish you'd died in June. I have some beautiful summer dresses that would suit you perfectly.' She sighed wistfully, staring off into space before snapping back to reality.

'Ah well, can't help that. Kids these days are so inconvenient.' She giggled that annoying high pitched laugh that scraped against my nerves.

'I believe a simple pair of jeans will do... although. Maybe we shouldn't discount the dresses so quickly...' She stood pondering for a moment, lost in though.

'I think possibly a baby blue Armani crepe silk would be the best option personally.' I said, intervening. 'I have a similar dress at home, and Sergeant Anderson did say that I should chose things I would be likely to wear. I feel I know what I would wear better than you.' I folded my arms across my chest and raised an eyebrow questioningly.

For a moment, Francis Harrington stood staring at me, shocked, before that aggravating laughter punctuated the air.

'I love this girl Davie! She's a hoot! What are you going to accessorize it with?' I shrugged.

'Nothing too fancy. Silver jewellery, but very simple. Maybe some diamond studs and a simple heart chain necklace. Some strappy white sandals with a minimal heel.' She nodded, imagining the outfit in her head before grinning, her eyes sparkling intensely. 

'I love it.' She said, flicking through the rack before laying her hands on the dress I had described.

'You're about the only soul who's stood up to me, and suggested an outfit I approve of. We should talk sometime.' She said, smiling gently as she handed me all of the things I'd described in a plain white carrier bag. I smiled gently. When she wasn't commandeering my dress code, she seemed quite nice.

'Take these to your apartment, and if you send your dress back I'll have it laundered and repaired for you.' She said, winking as we walked back to the door.

I'll be seeing you then Anna. Good luck tonight.' She said, shaking my hand and squeezing it gently.

'Interviews are pretty hard you know. Try not to break down or anything. It's truly embarrassing, and Sergeant Anderson doesn't like cry-baby's. As I found out the hard way!' She laughed lightly under her breath.

'Thanks. I think I'll be okay.' I swallowed deeply, smiling. Once you get past Francis's gaudy exterior, she was pretty nice.

'If you ever need anything... even just to talk, fashion or otherwise, let me know.' She smiled before giving me a quick hug.

'Thanks again.' I whispered, before walking out of the clothing room to prepare for the first interview with the number one suspect; my boyfriend of 2 and a half years, Luke Morrison.

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