Avoiding The Bad Boy

Part 4

Part 4

Headmaster Pickett's words sounded like a dream. This could not be real. Maybe in an alternate universe a girl dying on the first day of the new academic year might be possible but not here, not at Burswick. No, no, this could not be true. The headmaster was lying, he had to be.

But he continued to speak, while the Administrator stood beside him, his head slightly bowed while the headmaster addressed the students. He kept on saying how we all needed to stay calm and united, that the police would do everything to solve this murder, and that no stone would be left unturned and that Janice Walter would have justice. How could a dead girl have justice? I mean, what was she going to do with it?

There was absolute silence as students listened to Mr. Pickett's words. I could tell every single one of us was shocked to hear about what happened to Janice. Nothing like this had ever happened in the all the time I had been here. And now, all of a sudden there was a murder, a young girl was dead, and nobody knew who killed her or why.

"Classes will begin forty eight hours from now. Miss Walter's parents have been informed and they're on their way here. In the meantime, all students must be in their dorms as soon as classes end. Any student found loitering in the school grounds will face serious consequences. This is a sensitive matter, and we must all unite and stay strong. If you have any questions, you may ask," Headmaster Pickett stated.

Just as a student raised his hand, a sudden cry of anguish erupted from the other corner of the cafetaria. All heads turned in the direction to see a girl with black hair wailing while her friends tried to console her. I didn't know who the girl was, but I guessed she was Janice's friend.

The headmaster sighed before turning his attention to the boy who raised his hand. "Yes, Mr. Brown, your question."

"Headmaster, I wanted to ask, how was she killed? I mean, what happened to her?" The boy asked. He had blonde hair and brown eyes with freckles dotting his face.

"For now it looks like that Ms. Walter was stabbed repeatedly. The killer tried to bury her body but only half succeeded. The guard saw her foot protruding out of the mud and reported immediately," Headmaster Pickett answered.

"Can we see her?" Another boy asked. I threw a glare at the unknown boy. How could he be so insensitive at a time like this? A girl had died and he wanted to satisfy his sick curiosity by looking at the dead body.

"No, you cannot. That is disrespectful to the dead. If Ms. Walter's parents agree for the body to be shown, only then you will be allowed to see, but for now, the answer is no," headmaster replied.

For the next sixty seconds, silence reigned thick and heavy as everybody digested the latest news. As for me, my mind begun thinking about the killer. Who could it be? Was it a student or an adult? Why did he kill Janice? Was the killer among us or was he long gone?

While those questions were running through my mind, my eyes sought Dash's. I didn't know why I chose to look at him, it was like my eyes had a mind of their own and all they wanted to see was Dash.

I was surprised when I found Dash looking at me. Had he been looking at me all this time? Once my eyes locked with his, it was impossible to look away. There was something in those blue eys; something I had never seen before; something that had my blood chilling. But I could not decipher the look in his eyes. And then there was his messed up appearence. Why was he dressed like that? What had he been doing that caused his shirt to be stained so badly? And why didn't the headmaster reprimand him on his appearence?

However, my train of thoughts came to a screeching halt when I got a glimpse of Dash's arm. He had rolled up his shirt's sleeves which was the reason why I could see the horror painted on his golden skin. And no matter how hard I tried to tell myself that it was not what I thought it was, I couldn't. It was right there. The evidence of this new guy being the devil was painted on his skin in the form of red streaks.