Blaming Innocence - Chapter 5

  Another chapter of Blaming Innocence is here! Whoop-dee-doo! Sorry that I haven't posted in so long, but not to worry, just get reading!
Warning: Might not be suitable for younger viewers.

  I stared into the air in front of me. Why? Why did they suspect me? I didn't do it! If I had, would I have called the police like that? I had answered truthfully in every question the police woman asked me, and still they suspected me? I was lost for words.

  "Well, no surprise there," Rosy mumbled, screwing her face up, saying it too low for Mrs. Days to hear, but loud enough for me to hear every word.

  "I think it would be better if you slept in one of the rooms upstairs. The other girls might not feel... comfortable... if you slept in the same room as them. You may go, Gemima," Mrs. Days said gently, crossing her legs. 

  Well, there was something Cinnamon and Rosy could gossip and tease me about, I thought bitterly.

  I was so angry and upset that I just strode out of the room. My thoughts tumbled meaninglessly around in my head. I was accused of murder. When was the court case? When would all the police forces come to take me to a cold, lonely prison cell? It was so... mean. Mean was the only word to describe it.

  I trudged slowly up the steps, tears starting to well in the corners of my eyes. Mrs. Days had literally banished me from my room, from the very existence of other people. How could she? How dare she?!

  I sat down on my new bed, feeling exhausted and angry and upset all at the same time, and all 700 times worse than any other time I'd felt them. 

  I lay down on my bed, not even bothering to take my glasses off. Tomorrow would be torture - and probably full of police questioning too.

  I couldn't sleep so I went down to the library to read a book. I didn't mind which book, just something to get my mind off everything that had happened in the last 24 hours. It didn't help much - the book was about a boy being questioned and put in court and ending up in jail. Nice.

  I jumped as someone sat down next to me.

  "Hey," the person muttered. He sounded incredibly tired. I put the book away and looked at Chester's face.

  "What do you want?" I hissed.

  "Did you do it?" He replied cautiously.

 "No I didn't. But nobody believes me so you obviously don't either. Oh, this is so annoying! Just because I was there at the time of the death, everybody has to point fingers. At me! Why? I didn't do it and I told that police woman nearly a million times and I answered every question truthfully and still they have to accuse me! And the worst thing of all is that I don't have anything, no evidence, nothing, that will prove my case that I didn't do it!" I ranted, standing up at the last bit.

  "I believe you." Chester whispered, and stood up to join me.

  "I believe you and I'm going to do all I can to prove your case," he said, taking me in his strong arms and rubbing my back as I started crying.

  "Why?" I sobbed. 

  "Because that's what friends are for," he replied confidently.

  As the sun started rising, I sat outside the school entrance on the edges of the fountain. What Chester had said to me was so meaningful and nice I could hardly believe he'd actually said it. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I started to believe I'd just dreamed it. Eventually the bell went for breakfast and I made my way inside.

 No one ate much, except for Cinnamon who I had seen sneaking around in the kitchen with a pile of the leftover waffles I had made the day before. It seemed like several months ago that I'd talked so carefree to Chester in the kitchen and he'd complimented my waffles. I guessed Cinnamon didn't want to seem greedy towards everyone else. I wondered if Rosy had done the same thing or not.

  A little while later Chester, Cinnamon and I were standing in front of our easels in Art. Rosy had  left with the excuse she was 'too devastated' to do any lessons, which was probably just a big lie to get out of lessons. If anyone should be 'too devastated', it should be Chester, who'd been Raymond's brother.

  "Well done everyone. Think about shading and colours. Great mixing skills, Cinnamon," Mrs. Higgins, the art teacher, said.

  Five minutes before the end of the lesson, everyone had finished.

  "Great colours, Chester, well done. Good skills in showing the night time, Cinnamon, great job. Yes, um, good complimentary colours, Gemma," Mrs. Higgins said, faltering slightly when she came to mine. I knew mine was bad and didn't mind one bit. 

  Too bad, I thought grimly.

  "Well then class, let's go and write down our evaluations now then, shall we? The tables are wet so we'll go inside," Mrs. Higgins continued.

  "I'm going to stay and further examine my painting, Mrs. Higgins!" Cinnamon shouted after her.

  "You do that," Mrs. Higgins said.

  Just before going inside, I saw Cinnamon staring at her painting, obviously deep in thought about something. Probably Raymond's poisoning. I dismissed it and followed Mrs. Higgins inside. However, as the minutes dragged on, Cinnamon still didn't come inside, and so I asked Mrs. Higgins if I should go check on her. She agreed, and so I went back onto the balcony.

  Cinnamon lay doubled up on the floor, in a pool of her own blood, hands clutched around a large wound exactly where Raymond's had been as well.  

  I screamed, realization hitting me that Cinnamon had been poisoned as well.

  Seconds later, whilst I was standing in shock, Chester and Rosy (with Mrs. Higgins closely behind) came running to see what had happened.

  Rosy screamed as well.

  She started crying.

  "You!" she sobbed. "You did this!"

____

  "Two deaths in two days! And I was being accused of both of them. People were saying I was a serial killer, you know," I said, starting to feel tears welling in my eyes as I thought of Rosy's agonized words.

  "So what happened after Cinnamon died?" Inspector Shaw said.

  "You were called."