𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟗: 𝐀𝐧 𝐨𝐦𝐧𝐢𝐛𝐮𝐬 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

I once naively though that Casey dying was the last of my losses but as a cruel twist of fate, Zeds dead corpse laid there infront of our wide eyes. Jugheads wails of distress conquered my ears and I couldn't help but feel pity for the young chap. I, on the other hand, had my own eternal dillemas to conquer. This killer, this monster knew of Zoe and what I'd done before my arrival in Woodsboro. I didn't even realise that I was retreating backwards when I felt a pressure on my back and a pair of arms hold onto my petite figure. I came back into reality when I looked up and saw the face of the person who'd previously been in the living room with Louis. He was holding to me so tightly, as if I was going to drink red bull and grow wings if I let go.

I was taken out of my daze when I heard another loud cry from the area of Zeds mutilated body. Louis had discovered it. Oh no, this was bad. I felt the warm arms that once enveloped my figure move away and saw them now hugging onto Lin's now distraught figure who was sobbing on the floor. I felt a pang of jealousy at the sight, but i knew it wasn't the time and I went back to panicking.

I didn't know what to do. Should I call the police? But what if they pry for answers regarding the gruesome message splattered on the white tiles? I fall backwards, not able to process the scene unfolding before my eyes, my gaze jumps from figure to figure, and slowly yet surely they all blend into the sequence. "Tate, go get the police-" Lin begins, but they are cut short as the power is cut out, leaving us all enveloped in a curtain of darkness. Everybody descends into silence, it would almost be peaceful if a murder hadn't just taken place. The air starts to feel tight and dastardly cold, almost bone-chilling. I screw my eyes shut and try to blend into the darkness, hoping that whoever killed Zed wasn't lingering in it waiting to perpetuate my untimely death. The lights flicker back on, and a trail of blood leads towards a wall to the right of our group, which once displayed family portrait. The canvas lays on the ground, Zed's face scratched out. But this isn't the worst. "look!" Tate points to the wall, and there written in blood is a quote, 

"tomorrow, tomorrow and tomorrow creeps in at this petty pace from day to day, to the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools, the way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more. It is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing. " (sadly i know this off by heart im doing macbeth for nat5 english - Mari).

There was a silence before i heard the youngest teenager utter, "what the fuck does this mean?". They wore a dumbfounded expression on their face and shrugged their arms."I think I get it", Jughead speaks quietly, as if the air was fragile and thin. 

"This monologue takes place in act5 i believe, and at this point in the play Macbeth has succumb fully to his unhealthy greed. Here he comes to the full realisation that his ambition has gotten him nowhere, it's killed off everybody including his friend: Banquo, his kinsman: Duncan and his beloved wife: Lady Macbeth. He realises that his life means nothing without Lady macbeth, even if he had to live the rest of his life with the guilt of his actions and the ramifications, if Lady Macbeth was there it would've been fine. Maybe the killer can relate to that".

"So the killer has a motive of regret. A desperation to have someone back in his life again", Tate uttered, with a knowing glance towards the words on the wall. "And this clearly has to do with this 'Zoe' individual?", Jughead muttered through tears. He then gestured to the group of young adults, "do any of you guys know a Zoe? Perhaps it can help with finding out who the killer is yearning for?"

I thought for a second. If I admitted I knew her, they'd undeniably look into it. They'd find out about the lies I told to the Murphy family, and how I ruined their lives and my own in the process. They'd never talk to me again and I'd be alone again. On the other hand, they could link me back to the crime scene and think of me as a suspect. They'd think I'm guilty and I'd end up lonely aswell again. But if I don't say anything, it'd take longer to figure out the murderer and more people could die.