Philip sighed softly to himself, licking his vanilla icecream, his eyes scanning the page of his notes once more. He had just come back from getting his cold treat with his father, and he immidiantly got back to his search in his room, after excusing himself, ofcourse.
A grunt escaped his lips as he closed his notebook, deciding he would get no where by just looking at notes. He quickly finished up his icecream, wiping away the excess white cream from his lips with his sleeve. "Maybe..I can search around the house? It'd give me clues as to who did it....hopefully," He went silent after that, laying down on his bed with a frown that seemed to never dissapear nowa' days.
He decided to do his search while evreyone was asleep, it would give him more freedom and access to things around the house. He stared up at the ceiling, feeling a twinge of joy spark in his chest, even if it wasn't all that noticeable, it was enough to keep him from continuing to mope into the bedsheets.
He heard a knock at the door, interupting him from his thoughts as he sat up quickly, saying a quick "come in!". His father opened the door, giving him a small smile. "Hey, Pip, how's the drawing going?" Alexander asked, making Philip's eyes widen a bit, grabbing his notebook quickly. "Uh...it's been going fine, just fine," his father only nodded in response, giving him a quizzical look. "Alright...well, dinner's gonna be ready soon, so make sure to be outa' your room by then," the young boy nodded, and this seemed to satisfy Alexander, as he left without another word.
Philip opened his notebook, grabbing his pencil, jotting down another note to his small list.
he acts as if nothing happened, not even a frown has been spotted on his face. He chewed on the end of his pencil, a bad habit of his, before deciding to leave his room, knowing he'd get alot more information if he watched evreyone around the house. He took the pencil out of his mouth, closing his notebook, and setting both items down next to him.
He got up, walking out of the small room. He made his way to the dining area, finding that evreyone was taking their seats. "Oh! Philip, I was just about to get you. Why don't you sit down," Martha smiled sweetly, motioning the empty seat next to Jefferson, that seat also being across from Alex. 'Perfect,' philip thought, giving a quick nod to the taller woman before taking his seat, glancing around at evreyone.
They all had their heads down, eating silently, the air around them being thick with tension. He dully noted Martha as a possible suspect, but didn't fully beleive the thought. She barely knew his mother, so she wasn't exactly one in a place to hold grudges, she was dating Thomas when his mother fell for Alex, and she seemed to be the most sweet out of evreyone, trying to make them chin up, smile, laugh, anything. She cried during the funeral, she did feel the sting, but she just wasn't aquainted enough to really feel the complete agony.
He remembered he saw the Jeffersons at their home, which ment it would be impossible for them to be suspects. He almost groaned outloud, feeling stupid for even considering them. Dinner finished up quickly, Philip's plate still being almost completely full, and no interactions happening.
The young boy excused himself, before going back to his small room, finding small pride in the fact no tears fell at all in the past few hours, though it also made him feel horrible for not mourning over his mother more. He shook away the thought, if he wanted to get anywhere with his case, he had to take the fact he didn't cry as a good sign, he was staying strong.
A few hours past, it was soon night, and the entire house was sound asleep except for Philip. He got out of bed, being careful not to make any noise, as he grabbed a flashlight from under his pillow, and a pair of scissors. He didn't plan to use either items often, but it was better to be prepared.
He creeped out of his room, ignoring the feeling of dejá vu that bubbled in his chest, almost making him return back to his room. Almost. He continued on, listening to the muffled sound of snores, breathing, and the creeking of the floorboards underneath his feet. He would stop at evrey door, seeing if he could hear any whispers, the sound of the bed creaking, anything really. He soon found an open door, deciding to take his chances and peeking inside, finding releif in the fact his father was typing away at his laptop, his hair being in a messy bun.
He looked around for a good fifty minutes, being disappointed yet releived that he found no signs of possible clues hinting tawords the fact anyone might be the culprit. He re-entered his room, crawling into bed and under the covers. He planned to do this again tomorrow, even if he found nothing today, it didn't mean he would find nothing in his next attempt. 'I'll find out sooner or later,' Though he knew those were only hopeful wishes, it didn't stop him from thinking it.
(So that's long. Good job flora here the stuffy stuff
Words:900
Chapter:6 out of like more than 8
