Dead at 15

“This is your house?” Tommy asked in awe as we approached it. To me it looked like most of the other houses in our street: two storied and reasonably large in size. No mansions or anything. People in our town just usually had a bit of money.
“Yeah?”
“It’s big.”
“Well it did have to fit a family of fourteen you know.”
“Right. What’s for dinner?”
“Um…I think Mom’s making – shit!”
“She’s making shit?” He looked at me like I was crazy. I smacked him one around the back of his head.
“No, you idiot! My rents are going out for dinner.”
“So that means?”
“No decent dinner. They’ve already left.” Only the hallway light was on, the rest of the place was dark. “Now let’s stop gaping at my house and eat. I’m starving.”

***

I took another mouthful of my microwave Mac N Cheese. I was such a whiz in the kitchen, obviously. Well, I used to be alright but after November…I just began burning everything.
“So what was August like?” Tommy asked before stuffing more food into his mouth.
“She was pretty cool, always stood up for us when September was pulling her shit or something.”
“How’d she die?”
“She was at a gig with her band at my uncle’s bar and this huge fight broke out. Which was weird in itself. Anyway, the coroner’s report said that she’d taken a knock to the head, fell down then got trampled. They said that she could’ve been hit by an object or pushed backwards into something…I don’t really believe that, such a cover-up. I know she was hit intentionally.”
“But she was definitely trampled to death?” I nodded.
“Yes. Now are you done?” I gestured to the plastic container he held in his hands. He nodded and held it out for me to put in the trash.

***

“Wait. So you want me to go through your sister’s drawers?” Tommy asked a little apprehensively.
“You didn’t seem to have a problem with it at Matt’s place,” I retorted.
“Well…he was a dude.”
“So?”
“It’s not right going through a dead girl’s underwear.”
“Well let me ask you, is it okay for someone to get away with multiple murders all because someone let their ‘morals’ get in the way?” He gave me a pleading look. “Fine, take the closet then. Try find her bass.”

Fifteen minutes later of thorough searching, and nothing, not even a hint that she knew she was going to die – unlike October or November. She had to have known though. She was not ignorant.
“Are you okay?” A soft voice called. I looked up to see Tommy staring down at me with a gentle expression.
“What?”
“Your eyes are all puffy.”
“Shittles.” I quickly frowned. I felt my cheeks for traces of tears but nothing, and I let out a sigh of relief. Crying, now that would’ve been embarrassing.
“Shittles?” I chuckled.
“A cross between shit and Skittles.”
“Oh, I get it! So what’s wrong?”
“She had to have known it was coming. Surely.”
“And there has to be something to prove it?”
“Of course there does!” I screamed.
“Whoa, calm down,” he said, placing his hands on my shoulders.
“You’re telling me to calm down?!”
“Yup! Now I think we’ve found all we can here…so let’s go see your uncle!”
“…Fine.” Strange boy indeed.

***

“Hey Uncle Tom!” I yelled across the bar. The graying man turned away from his customer quickly.
“December! I’ll be with ya in a minute. Go out back!” I nodded and dragged Tommy through the door marked ‘staff only.’
“How long you got?” I asked as Uncle Tom walked into the room, wiping sweat from his brow with something that looked awfully like a Spongebob Squarepants towel thing. I could feel Tommy shaking next to me with silent giggles. Yeah, giggles.

“Uh…as long as you like. I’ve got Mike watching the bar. Is this going to take long?”
“A little while. I don’t really want to be interrupted,” I answered in a serious tone, catching his eyes. He nodded his head in grim understanding and his mouth set in a hard line.
“Oh, I see. So who’s your friend?” I looked across at Tommy whose eyes lit up.
“I’m Tommy Jones. Nice to meet you!” He said and reached out to shake my uncle’s hand.
“Tommy you say?” He laughed half-heartedly. “What a coincidence. My name’s Tom.”
“I know! December told me.”
“You guys done yet? Because this is almost as painful to listen to as Miley Cyrus.” Okay, major exaggeration but I was getting impatient.

“Alright. Go ahead,” Uncle Tom invited.
“What happened the night August died?”
“Oh. If that’s why you’re here then you-”
“Spare me the crap.”
“I’m not sure I should tell you that.”
“’Cause you’re afraid that my parents will find out? They won’t, seriously. Besides, Mom hates me anyway. Nothing would change there.” He let out a sigh and scratched his head. I pulled out my notebook and pen.
“Well her band played – good crowd reaction. They packed up pretty quick and she came over to talk to me for a few minutes.”
“Then what? Wasn’t there a fight?” Tommy asked.
“Let him get to it,” I said.

“So anyway, her friend…Toby, I think his name was. Well something went down with him and some other guys and he went flying across the bar. Then August’s other friend punched a guy and all hell broke loose.”
“Did you see August get hit?” I questioned. “Fall down?”
“Uh no, I didn’t.”
“Who found her?”
“Cops did.” He coughed. “They were arresting kids. I was with them when they…yeah.”
“How did she look?”
“You want me to answer that?”
“It’s not like you can disturb me – or Tommy either.”
“Well she…no! You kids shouldn’t know these things.”
“Oh, we do. But if that doesn’t sit well with your conscience, where’s her bass?”
“Excuse me?”
“Her bass guitar. I can’t find it at home.” My uncle looked around nervously. “I know you have it.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Don’t lie to me. You suck at it. Where’s the bass?”
“Why do you need it?”
“I don’t need it. I want it and I have a much stronger claim to it than you do.”
“Kids these days…” He muttered before opening a cupboard and pulling out a large black case with a multitude of stickers covering it.

He set the case on the floor and clicked open the latches, revealing August’s ESP bass. Boy it was nice. Uncle Tom had kept it in fantastic condition – that was what I was worried about. The instrument was too clean. Maybe my uncle killed her himself. It was possible. June was, also, very close to him. He could have been killing them from the beginning. Maybe he just got closer to June and August to make it easier. He knew our house too. My parents and him did get along at one point. Hell, he could’ve taken her out back and hit her over the head himself - possibly with her own instrument, started a fight, then let her get trampled. The idea wasn’t too far-fetched. Was it?

I clutched September’s necklace in my pocket in order to keep my composure.
“So where’d you find this?” I asked, jerking my head at the bass.
“On the floor, next to the bar.”
“And it didn’t get dents in the case?” I asked in disbelief as I inspected the case lid. Surely someone would’ve kicked it.
“When I found it, it was behind a bar stool, parallel to the bar. The stools are fixed to the ground and it was stacked vertically too so it would’ve been very hard to trample it.” Well doesn’t this seem very rehearsed?
“I find it funny that you can remember all these details. Don’t you think so too?” He raised an eyebrow.
“What? Are you trialling me for murder December?” Uncle Tom asked almost jokingly, almost.
“Yep!” Tommy piped up and my Uncle’s face fell.
“I see. December your imagination is-”
“No lip Old Man or I’ll have Mom all over your ass. This conversation does not leave the room. It’s our little secret okay? And I’ll be taking the bass too,” I said with authority and a smirk, closing the lid of the case and clicking the latches into place. “Goodbye Uncle. C’mon Tommy.” I picked up the bass, grabbed Tommy’s wrist and fled the bar.

***

Timmy picked us both up when we reached the grocery store. He dropped me at my house then drove off with Tommy in his small, smelly, beat up Toyota. I’d hauled the bass up to my room – they’re much heavier than they look. I then dug out a pair of latex gloves and began my inspection.
I couldn’t see any bloodstains on the instrument, of course August died back in 2005 and Tom had obviously cleaned the bass, but I was always hoping for some unbelievably helpful shred of evidence. I checked the case as well. It was made of leather, but it was also clean. I sighed, packed it up, took off my gloves and then logged into my laptop.

Mad as a Hatter requests chat.

Well that could only be one person, so I accepted.

Mad as a Hatter says: DECEMBER!!! Hehe, hi. We’re talking over the internet!
Death to Birthdays says: *face palm* Tommy…
Mad as a Hatter says: What?
Death to Birthdays says: It’s ten thirty. How can you be this hyper at ten thirty?
Mad as a Hatter says: I have mad skillz ^^
Death to Birthdays says: Congrats now what do you want?
Mad as a Hatter says: Find anything on the gee-tar?
Death to Birthdays says: Zilch.
Mad as a Hatter says: So…what do we do tomorrow then?
Death to Birthdays says: We’ll visit Toby and Liana
Mad as a Hatter says: Who?
Death to Birthdays says: Her best friends and coincidental, band mates.
Mad as a Hatter says: You know where they live too?! :O
Death to Birthdays says: Just Liana. Toby works at the music shop. So we’ll go there first. Liana’s an…I dunno what she does but she stays at home.
Mad as a Hatter says: Ok then
Death to Birthdays says: So…what did you think about today?
Mad as a Hatter says: T’was intense
Death to Birthdays says: T’was?
Mad as a Hatter says: Well Mr Blond dude is definitely not a suspect
Death to Birthdays says: Yeah, somehow I can’t imagine a six-year-old committing murder either
Mad as a Hatter says: LOL! Didn’t think about that
Death to Birthdays says: Of course you didn’t. Now what about my uncle?
Mad as a Hatter says: Dodgy
Death to Birthdays says: I got that vibe too. He was way too protective of that bass, like he was trying to hide something or whatever. But yeah, didn’t find anything.
Mad as a Hatter says: He was like that in general though. His eyes were scary, like stone cold.
Death to Birthdays says: Hm…I didn’t notice that. Anyway, gotta go loser. See ya.
Mad as a Hatter says: BYEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!

***

I slurped on my large thick-shake-to-go as Tommy and I entered the music store. Guitars were by far the most predominant instruments there but of course, we weren’t there to look at them. I approached the counter, clearing my throat in irritation at the attendant flipping through a magazine, who continued to ignore me.
“Um December?” Tommy said, poking my shoulder.
“Yeah? What?”
“Headphones.” He was right. I glared at the attendant.
“Stupid long haired males,” I muttered. I reached out and yanked the black colored headphones out of his ears by the cords.

“Fuck! Oh shit. Sorry. Uh, yeah?” He exclaimed. I rolled my eyes at the boy, recognizing him as Joe Atkinson. He was a senior at my school. Notorious dumbass. Everyone seemed to think he was hilarious. I just wondered if he had mental issues.
“Is Toby in?” I asked.
“Uh, er, I think he’s out, uh, back.”
“Uh, er, uh okay!” I mimicked, walking over to the staff only door and opening it.
“Hey, you, uh, can’t go in there!”
“Shut up pothead.”

***

“Hello Toby,” I said as Tommy and I approached the black haired boy. He was looking down as he put new strings on a guitar. He was very attractive. Maybe a little too 'emo' looking to be considered 'hot' but he wasn’t bad to look at, at all.
“And you are?” He muttered.
“December.” He raised his head and his mouth made an ‘O’ shape.
“So what do you want December?” Toby asked.
“Well-” I started.
“I’m Tommy by the way,” Tommy said enthusiastically.
“Hey dude,” Toby replied with a small smile.
“Tommy!” I snapped. “You do realize that you don’t need to involve yourself in every conversation, right?” He grinned.
“But I like to.” Smartass.

“You were saying December?” Toby asked.
“Right, what happened the night August died?” His eyes became suddenly… emotional. Not teary, emotional. He let out a sigh and shook his head.
“Um…ask anything apart from that.”
“Okay, how did the fight start?”
“Damn.”
“She got you there!” Tommy pointed out.
“I know! This sucks!” Toby replied. I smiled a little at how Tommy was able to keep the older boy from going all depressed and reluctant to tell us stuff.
“I understand dude, but you better answer her. She has amazing persuasion techniques.” Toby turned to look at me and I cracked my knuckles, causing Tommy to laugh and Toby to shake his head again.

“Well I’ll just tell you what happened after we played, okay?” He said and I nodded with a smile. Perfect. “August went over to the bar and me and Lee were leaving. I walked into some douche by accident, knocked his drinks outta his hands, he pushed me so I called him a fucking shithead and pushed him back and…that’s all I remember. I got knocked out cold. The way your sister…” he cleared his throat, “went, was horrible. She didn’t deserve it at all. But if you want more details, go to Lee. I’m pretty much useless.”

***

Liana’s Dr. Marten’s made heavy thudding noises on the wooden floorboards as she walked over to hand us our Cokes. She was a tall girl, almost awkward but her muscles were well-defined and she held herself in a way which oozed confidence. Her hair was dyed a fire-truck red color and she had a nose ring. There was no room for awkwardness.

“Toby didn’t tell you much?” She asked. Tommy and me shook our heads. She snorted. “Not surprised, he’d been in love with her since the fourth grade so he could’ve left things out. Then again, he did get knocked out.”
“He kinda choked up,” Tommy said and Lee nodded.
“Anyway, Toby’s Mom picked me up – August was already in the car, we played our set, August went off to see Tom, and Toby and me were about to leave when Toby knocked some fucker’s drinks on the floor. It all happened so fast really. Toby got thrown across the bar and it all went quiet for a second before I punched the jackass and the place just exploded,” she explained.

“Did you see what happened to August?” I asked.
“Nope. I couldn’t even see my own hands.”
“Did you get hit with an object of some kind during the fight?”
“ ‘Fight’. I love how people say that. I got hit with tonnes of glass shit, but now that I think about it, I remember getting hit with something else. What? A baseball bat or some shit. It was metal. I know that much.”
“A baseball bat?”
“Yep. I’m pretty sure of it now. A baseball bat, definitely. I mean, I got tonnes of bruises and shit from that night but I had that bruise for a while. It was a real beauty too.” She then pointed to teh upper area of her right arm. “Right about here.” I nodded. "The only other time I've had a bruise like that was when Ian, my little brother, hit me with his bat after I put spiders in his bed."

“Alright then. Is that everything you can remember?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Well thanks Lee,” I said as me and Tommy got up to leave. To be honest, I was a little surprised that Tommy remained quiet for the most part. My theory that he was bi-polar or something just seemed to be making more and more sense. That or he was traumatized but yeah, bi-polar just sounded cooler.
“Wait. I think I’ve got something for you!” Liana yelled as she ran off. A moment later, she returned, grabbed my arm and placed a peanut butter cup in my hand. “August told me that if I saw you, later on, to give you one of these. Lucky I had some really.” I smiled broadly.
“Thanks.” She knew.