MATILDA, eddie munson.

036.

MARCH 22ND, 1986
📍cunningham house
8:53 AM

stirring awake, matilda could immediately tell something wasn't right. she sat up and grabbed her water bottle from her nightstand, taking a sip as she tried to rid herself from the anxious feeling brewing in her stomach.

after a few minutes of laying in bed and adjusting to the world, she got up and headed towards her bathroom. she turned the tap on and coated her face with water, before grabbing some face wash and lathering it on.

once she'd rinsed it off, she headed back into her room and towards her closet to pick out something to wear, settling on a pair of jeans and a blue striped t-shirt, with her converse and eddie's hoodie on overtop.

she didn't put on any makeup. after all, it was a saturday, so what was the point? and her hair was freshly washed and curled, so she decided to just leave it down.

she needed to refill her water bottle, so left her room to head downstairs. however, when she was halfway down the stairs, she realized she hadn't heard anything from chrissy this morning and decided to check if she was okay.

"hey, chrissy," she spoke softly, knocking on the door. she received no response so she tried again. "chris, you alive in there?" she joked.

after hearing no reply again, tillie's concern grew. she grabbed hold of the door handle and gently opened the door, entering the room.

the first thing she noticed was that chrissy wasn't in her bed like she expected. she thought the girl would be hungover from the previous night, but no. "chrissy?" she said quietly, moving to look in the girl's bathroom. "chris?"

but she wasn't anywhere to be found.

tillie shrugged, thinking that maybe chrissy had ended up staying at jason's and headed to the kitchen to resume filling her bottle up. her mother was also in the kitchen preparing a pie for their dinner that night, which tillie probably wouldn't be allowed any of.

"did chrissy come home last night?" matilda asked her mother.

"i didn't see her," samantha replied, kneading the pastry of the pie.

suddenly, there was a heavy knock at the door, and the two women stood in silence for a moment, waiting for the other to answer it.

"get it then, matilda," her mother ordered, using her hand to make a shooing motion.

tillie nodded and placed her bottle on the counter, wiping her hands as she walked to the door. opening it, she was shocked to see the chief and his deputy stood on her doorstep.

"does chrissy cunningham live here?" chief powell asked.

"um, yeah," tillie confirmed, turning around. "mother!" she called.

— 📻🪐🏹 —

MARCH 22ND, 1986
📍cunningham house
9:28 AM

"i'm really sorry to have you inform you of this," chief powell started, once the four of them were seated in the living room. "we found a body, the body of your daughter."

tillie felt her heart drop and shatter into millions of pieces. she had to cover her mouth with her hand to silence the gasp that escaped. her twin sister was dead. the bright, lively girl she'd spent every day with for the past eighteen years, was gone just like that.

she began to replay their last conversation in her head, the last words they spoke to one another.

'see you at home.'

but now, chrissy would never come home again.

tears began forming in her eyes and tillie wanted nothing more than to break down crying right then and there, but her mother turned and sent her a warning glare, telling her not to embarrass them and make a scene.

closing her eyes, the girl inhaled deeply and slowly. she opened her eyes gently and swallowed. "you're sure it was chrissy? don't we need to identify her?"

"uh, well," the chief cleared his throat. "given the state of her body, we don't think that would be good for you. but based off of her clothes, and eye witness, we know that it is her."

"what do you mean 'the state of her body'?" tillie repeated, her tone getting louder and more hurt by the second. "what did they do to her?"

"miss cunningham," powell spoke calmly. "i understand you are upset, and rightly so, but i assure you it will give you no comfort knowing what happened to your sister. hell, we are still unsure as to what happened. until we find the suspect we are just as in the dark as you. all we know for now, is that your sister was murdered, and whoever did it is a sick, sick man."

"who is the suspect?" samantha questioned. "who did this to my chrissy?"

don't act like you care about her now, matilda thought. you never cared about either of us.

"our main suspect right now is eddie munson," powell told them, making tillie's jaw drop. "we found chrissy in his trailer and he is the last person she was seen with. we have officers searching for him now, but so far he is nowhere to be found."

"ed- eddie munson?" tillie repeated in shock. "no. no. he would never. eddie wouldn't do this."

"you know eddie?" callahan, powell's deputy asked, the two of them looking at her in confusion. she noticed her mother was staring at her with a similar expression too.

"um, we.. we worked on an assignment together in history," tillie informed them. "but i'm telling you, eddie wouldn't hurt a fly."

"not even for his cult?"

"cult?" matilda repeated, her brows furrowed. "you mean hellfire club? they played a fantasy game, god, they didn't kill people."

"hasn't dungeons and dragons been proven to promote satanic worship, sacrifices, suicide and murder?" callahan remarked, reading from
his notepad.

"yes, but—"

"matilda," samantha hissed. "why are you defending the man that killed your sister?"

"i'm n-not," the blonde stuttered, feeling pressured by all the eyes on her. "i'm just saying that the eddie i knew wouldn't be capable of this."

there was no part of her that believed eddie would actually do this. he was probably just in the wrong place at the wrong time. he would never hurt a soul, especially not chrissy whom he knew meant so much to his friend.

"i can't believe this," her mother spoke glumly, shaking her head. abruptly, the loud ringtone of the phone was heard from the kitchen. "matilda, can you get that?"

nodding, tillie stood up and began making her way to the kitchen, still in utter disbelief and denial that her little sister was gone forever.

— 📻🪐🏹 —

i don't know what to say right now um..
don't kill me pls 😃

WORD COUNT — 1120.