The Secrets Within Pages

Criminals

"Oi, you lazy sod! Wake up before I drag you out of 'ere!" An old woman croaked, nudging me with a broom.

I peered up to be greeted by the wrinkles etched into Madam. Rosebury's cranky face. My eyesight still adjusting from the blurry drunkenness of sleep, I mutter a mess of apologies and mumbles as I drag my drowsy limbs to pack everything from yesterday into my bag. I must've fallen asleep in the library last night.

I rub my eyes and slap my cheeks to awaken myself as I look at my watch to realise I'm late. Cursing myself, I run to class not sure why, considering Osbourne is dead and equally confused as to what's going to happen now? And why it hasn't even been addressed?

Rushing through the door, I try to mask my heavy breathing as I go to sit down. "How nice of you to join us, Miss. Burroughs." The peeved, nasally voice of Head Lecturer, Professor. Humphries.

Pretentious arse.

"Now that you're all here, I have some unfortunate news." Nausea twists at my stomach as I grip my bag already knowing whats coming next. "I am here to inform you of the untimely death of Professor. Osbourne." He finishes with an insincere frown on his face.

I bring a hand to my mouth to appear shocked, no good will come out of telling them what I already know.

A gasp, "No! How? He was fine yesterday! I can't believe this-" bouts of sniffling cut her short. Mary Langford, the only other student in the class besides myself and Golding, was always the more eccentric type. Harmless, but her presence in this class was questionable to say the least.  Her over-scrupulous and conceited manner would've been acceptable to some degree, if it weren't for the underwhelming degree of excellence shown in her grades.

"Unfortunately, it's true. Although, I'm not sure if I am granted permission to give details, as his students you deserve to know the truth. Professor. Osbourne was murdered. The police identified the body last night, he was found outside the globe theatre," reveals Humphries.

My eyes widen as I recall the story from  Aymes Cafe. The body from the news was Professor Osbourne. I gape at Humphries unsure of what to say or do as I look around the class, catching a glimpse of Golding whose furrowed brows convey the same perplexity. The revelation infuses worry and tension into the atmosphere as Mary's crying turn into audible sobs.

"The funeral is on Sunday. Don't be surprised if you're visited by the police for questioning, you know, formalities. And uh, sorry for your loss. Lessons will continue normally as of next week with a new teacher." The pompous man disclosed before bidding us farewell.

Paralysed, I stare at the spot he was just in. "I- I cant handle this," weeps Mary, scurrying out the door behind Humphries. Leaving me and the boy with piercing brown eyes alone in quandary to unpack this puzzle.

"So, that's what you were up to yesterday. I told you I'd find out." He spoke, rising from his seat.

My head falls into my hands as I groan, "Now, is really not the time." I say, getting up to leave.

"Make time." He demands, grabbing my arm. I look up to meet his intense gaze. The morning sun set alight his striking features, his brown eyes brightened to pools of honey, the dark umber of his fluffy hair glistened revealing strands of reddish copper. You'd be a fool to say he wasn't utterly ethereal.

I rip my arm from his grip, "I know it's hard for you not being in control of everything, but this doesn't concern you."

Scoffing, he grabs my bag and empties it on the table.

"What the hell are you doing?!" I yell, moving toward him.

Inspecting the contents of it, he pulls out the last thing I would've expected,

A gun.

"No, what the hell are you doing?"

Dumbfounded and taken aback, I stammer at a loss for words.

"What. Is. This.?" He repeats in lethal slowness.

I gape at him. Briskly, he shoves the gun in the bag, "Do you understand the dire consequences you will face if you were found with this on you? Are you even aware, in the slightest, how incriminating this is?" He explains emphatically, eyes wide.

Fear and shock immobilise me as I'm sat there, pathetic, picking at my fingernails, tears threatening to escape me.

"Damn it! Answer me!" He yells in a loud whisper, careful to not attract anyone yet forceful enough to make me reply.

"I don't fucking know! One moment I'm in class, the next I'm associated with a crime and the murder of my teacher no less." I rasp, hating how desperate and helpless I sound.

He laughs humourlessly, "Start with telling me what was in that letter."

If the police question me and find a gun in my possession, someone who is directly connected to Osbourne and has potential for motive- the possibility churns fear in my stomach. I examine the room looking right and left for any passerbys, "Not here. It's too risky. Meet me in my dorm in an hour."

He clenches his jaw, nodding in approval before leaving. I take several breaths to calm myself down and force a graceful walk out the door to avoid arousing any suspicion. Oxford will be wary with the news of a killer around, and I couldn't afford becoming their first suspect.