𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒 & 𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑

this is me trying

They told me all of my cages were mental
So I got wasted like all my potential
And my words shoot to kill when I'm mad
I have a lot of regrets about that

suspect 3 - ishita singhania

3 weeks before Ambrose Kensington's murder

I peered down at the perfect score scrawled down on my essay sheet, as I heaved a sigh of relief. I feebly picked the paper, pinned it to the soft board in my dorm room, and smiled.

The first letter of the alphabet was the only thing that described me, as a person. Ishita Singhania, Westview's top scorer who always got straight A's. That's who I was, that's all I was, frankly.

And recently, that impression had been leaving the face of the Earth. I got a 94 on the last class test, and ranked third. I'd seen the scrutinizing glances of my teachers, and the proud faces of those who ranked above me. I feared that everything I'd worked for was slowly dissipating.

All the hours I'd put in, scrawling down complex questions which no one in my grade understood, or the hours I'd put in reading every guidebook known to man, all those hours were going to waste.

I was burning out, and I hated it. I hated that the only thing I was good at was cramming up on knowledge and having perfect scores. I hated that if I lost the one thing I was good at, I'd be no one. I'd lose my identity. Because all my identity was, was a mere score on test sheets.

If I thought about this any longer, I'd burst, I knew it. It was almost like something was injected into my veins, that would cause my body to shrivel if I failed. I wouldn't let that happen.

I picked up my phone, looking at the text my mom sent me, feeling a flood of guilt in my system. It was a simple text, a small little good morning with the two suns that she sent me every single morning. But it made me feel worse than I ever had. I texted her back, with two little hearts, saying that I missed her. I really did. I missed my mom so much.

I wasn't like every other trust-fund baby at Westview. Their parents owned million-dollar companies, almost everyone was old money. I wasn't.

My mom was a single parent, an immigrant. We weren't poor, in any way. We had enough to provide for ourselves, but my little flat in an apartment and thrift-shop clothes weren't a match for everyone's mansions and designer clothes made just for them.

I hadn't expected to get into Westview at the start of highschool. I'd always been studious, the type of kid who always submitted their homework on time, yet, was too shy to answer in class.

There were only two possible ways to get into Westview. You either paid your way through, or you studied your ass off. For me, it was the latter.

I'd ranked first in the entrance exam, yet, it hadn't been all on my own smartness. I'd cheated in an exam, for the first time in my life. I'd scrawled the answers on a piece of paper, and shoved them in my bra, in hopes that no one would find out.

I just couldn't not get accepted. I knew my mom would be upset, and all I wanted was for her to be proud. For her to think that her daughter was someone to be proud of. And it worked, no one found out I'd cheated. I was ecstatic. The guilt stayed, wondering if I took away any kid's chance to get in, but a person always had to put themselves first.

I thought no one had noticed, no one had brought it up in the last four years. I became the school's captain last year. Much to my dismay, I'd had a tie with Nathaniel Cortez. My rival and ironically, my best friend's brother. In simple terms, he was a threat to everything I'd built for myself.

He was almost perfect. He always managed to score the same way I did, but unlike me, he had other things he could be proud of. Everyone adored him, he was like a goddamn golden retriever. He played some sport I didn't bother to know, and from what I'd heard, he could draw too.

Fucking asshole.

Anyways, being the captain was everything I'd ever dreamt of. I got respect and admiring stares from those younger than I was.

My mom was proud too. When I met her during break, her eyes were filled with tears as she'd hugged me and said I was the best daughter. Those were the most accomplishing words I'd ever heard in my life.

Sure, some people had been rude. Talked about how I was a charity case, or how I only won because the Principal felt pity for me. I knew all that was bullshit, because I'd kept up the perfect grades. Plus, what all the haters said could matter less.

Just as I was recollecting the moments I'd been crowned captain, a little buzz from my phone filled the room. It was a text from Lilah, the Principal's assistant. From what I'd gathered, Lilah wasn't too fond of me.

She asked to see me immediately, and I obeyed.