Dead at 15

A black hole, I’d been sucked into a black hole. There was no pain, no emotions really, only numbness – just a cruel reminder that you’re still alive. The ever-consuming darkness had stopped all thought process, which didn’t revolve around itself. I –
“December…December…” A familiar voice called softly. Oh God, no! Why did you follow me here?! The voice shut up for a moment. Now, where was I? Ah yes, the black abyss –
“Oy! December! Wake the fuck up!” I groaned, my throat parched. “Wake up already!”
I unglued my eyelids reluctantly. The shining white of the boy’s teeth was not kind on my unused eyes. I shut them quickly, rubbing the sleep out and then reaching for the stagnant glass of water on my nightstand. Once I’d recovered and prepared myself enough to deal with the boy, I turned to him.

“What are you doing here Tommy?” I asked in a monotonous voice.
“Do you know what the date is?”
“No and nor do I care. Thank you for fucking waking me up, now leave so I can go back to sleep.” I rolled back over, pulling covers up to my chin.
“I think you’ve been doing enough of that lately.”
“And how would you know?” I retorted.
“Do you know what the date is?” He repeated.
“I thought we had already established the fact that I don’t. Obviously you’re dying to tell me, so go ahead.”
“It’s the twenty-third of November.”
“You’re kidding,” I said. He shook his head. I inhaled sharply. I’d been out of it for a while but I hadn’t expected my ‘vacation’ to have been that long.

“Nope. First day of Thanksgiving holidays. It’s why I came over.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t come over on the weekend.”
“I was busy.”
“Doing what?!” Kind of sounded like ‘how dare you have a life that doesn’t include me’ but whatever – it wasn’t! He smirked and showed me a manila folder. My eyes widened as I realized what it was.
“The police file! How did you get this?” I said while reaching for it but Tommy snatched it back. I frowned. “Give it to me.”
“No.”
“It’s my sister’s file!”
“I got it first!”
“Why can’t I have it?”
“Why were you off school?”

I turned my gaze to the window. Tommy had obviously opened the curtains.
“Personal reasons.” I saw him fanning himself with the file in my peripheral vision.
“Guess you don’t want this then. Guess you really don’t wanna save your own life…” Tears welled in my eyes as I looked at him. His gaze softened but he looked disappointed, if that was the right word, I couldn’t tell.
“Oh no, December. You do want to live don’t you?”
“I’m not sure what I want anymore. It’s not like I can bring them back.”
“…It’d be a little insulting to them, don’t you think, if you just gave up?”
“Insulting? Insulting? It’s not like any of them tried to stop this!” I shrieked. “They’re the ones who condemned me!”
“No offense, but I doubt many people could do what you do – or did, by themselves.” I sighed, pulling the covers up.

“What do you mean Tommy?”
“For a teenager to be as…thorough as you, it’s not normal.”
“I’m not normal?” He shook his head again and grinned.
“Not at all. Total freak.”
“Well, look who’s talking,” I muttered, chucking a pillow at him, even smiling slightly. He threw it back at me before walking over to my desk. The bastard still had the file too. Damn. I took another sip from my glass of water.

“These are the books you were talking about right?” Tommy asked, lifting up ‘the Wide Window’. I’d almost finished going through that one – but obviously got ‘distracted’.
“Yeah, they are.”
“Find anything?”
“Nope. What about that file?” I hinted. Tommy smirked before sitting down on my bed.
“How come you’ve been off?”
“This is so blackmail.”
“Oh, I know. But I’m beginning to like this breaking the law stuff.”
“Bad boy now are we?” He smiled playfully.
“Yeah, chicks dig it apparently,” he replied innocently. “Now, that story?”

My face fell. Despite Tommy not being much of an opponent, I knew that he was persistent and that he wasn’t going to let me get out of it. To most people, this probably wasn’t a big deal but I was a little ashamed over my reaction – plus the fact that I didn’t see it coming. But he was right, it would be stupid of me to give up on all of this just because I was being emotional over something as trivial as this in comparison. I really did need that police file.

My mother certainly had the access, the motives were questionable but if Dad had found out that she did it, it’s not like he could bring her to justice without causing suspicion as an accomplice. Not to mention, if he wasn’t prosecuted, his career would be ruined along with his reputation at the FBI, however, in having this reputation and having worked at the FBI for the first few of deaths, he’d have been able to cover up everything to do with the murders, no problems. Oh and his best friend was the sheriff.

It was that or they both had killed my sisters and it was finally taking a toll on their relationship. Mom had been off her rocker for years now – with the mood swings and all. Being a female and more emotional, I could see how this may have effected her, but to prove any of these theories, I’d need the evidence and so far, I didn’t have any.

***

Of course I told Tommy everything. Though I had originally planned on ‘editing’ I ended up blurting it all out in the process. I upset myself yet again, but it wasn’t like I was getting even more stirred up over it, I ended up lifting all the emotional shit off my shoulders completely. And although Tommy was annoying, talked too loud and stuff, he gave really good hugs. That also happened to be the moment when my mom walked in.

“DECEMBER ANTONIA LAMBERT!” She shrieked.
“Oh shit,” I muttered.
“What the hell is this boy doing in your bed?!”
“Oops,” Tommy said. I could hear the smile in his voice though. Bastard.
“Yeah, ‘oops’ alright,” I answered back to him. “Mom, nothing is going on. Keep your hair on.”
“This is no time for jokes December!”
“I wasn’t aware that I was making any. I mean no one was laughing.”

Her face went a nasty shade of red. I could almost feel the wave of obscenities ready to rush out of her mouth. But she bit her lip, took a deep breath and then responded.
“You know what? I can’t deal with this. Your father can punish you when he gets home!” And then she left my room, slamming the door shut. I turned to Tommy.

“Um, would you mind telling me what I did?” I asked. (At the time I was blissfully unaware of our ‘arrangement.’
“Hmm…I can guess.”
I then finally noticed the position we were in: Tommy’s arm around my shoulders, our bodies very close together considering I only had a single bed…overall, easy to interpret as something else. Overall, quite misleading.
“Ugh, great. Seriously, fan-fucking-tastic.” Tommy laughed and I groaned. “Shut up. This is no laughing matter.”

“So, do you wanna take a look at the file?” He asked. I nodded eagerly as he opened it out. To my disappointment, there wasn’t too much there that I didn’t already know, no hard evidence (I’m sure Tommy would’ve looked, plus it’s a pretty good filing system, probably due to the fact that the cop station was boring enough and everyone usually got around to doing it) unlike with October who had the diary and cell phone.

Anyway, the file just had a whole bunch of ‘probable’ theories (none suspecting foul play, of course) and a bunch of rather graphic photographs. I was rather surprised when I didn’t feel sick or anything but Tommy was looking rather green. The file did however include rough school details – namely, the address of the place.
“Tommy?”
“Yes?”
“What’s the time?” He checked his cell phone.
“Ten twenty-seven in the morning.” I jumped out of bed and ran over to my laptop, turning it on and typing in my passwords.
“Alright then. I’m going to have a shower. You…can play cards or something.” I pointed to my computer. “Be back soon.”

***

I ran downstairs to grab some toast.
“Mom? Are you around?” I asked. I heard a muffled reply from the living room. She was obviously pissed – I could tell ‘cause she was watching ‘Dr. Phil’ on the TV. That always pissed her off more, and she knew it. “Mom, I’m sorry about earlier,” not really, “but there’s something that’s been bothering me, completely random, but I was wondering if you remembered the name of July’s last school teacher.”
“Mrs Campbell. Now leave me alone,” was the cold reply.
“Thanks…” I said with heavy sarcasm, rolling my eyes.

“Tommy!” I yelled, leaving the door wide open as I flew into the room, mouth filled with toast. Tommy jumped, quickly exiting ‘Youtube’.
“Y-yeah?” I didn’t even want to know what he was watching and I deleted my Internet history later that night without any hesitation.
“C’mon. We’ve got a bus to catch.”
“We do?”
“Yeah now get whatever shit you brought over.”
I grabbed my messenger bag, throwing the police file in it along with a few of the Lemony Snicket books, my notebook, pen, cell phone and iPod. I really hated having to carry technology in my pockets, too bulky for my liking, so in the bag it went.

***

“You have some good stuff on here!” Tommy exclaimed while going through my iPod – yet to my irritation, wasn’t actually playing anything. I continued flicking through the pages of ‘The Miserable Mill’. “Wait, Lady Gaga?”
“How did that get on there?” I mumbled, knowing very well that it was because I actually liked her: a considerable contrast to the metal, rock and etcetera that I usually listened to.
“I don’t like her but Bad Romance is hilarious,” he said, proceeding to play it, giggling manically while I subtly mouthed the words.

Ten minutes later, when Tommy finally stopped repeating that one song and switched to Disposable Teens by Marilyn Manson, we arrived at the school.
“Are you sure anyone will be here?” Tommy asked as we got off the bus and walked up to the main office.
“Yes, the lights are on,” I said, pointing to the office as if it was the most obvious thing in the world – which it was.
“What if they weren’t on?” Tommy asked as we climbed the stairs.
“Then we would’ve taken that trip for nothing.”
“Whoa, lucky shot.”
“On the contrary, it was a calculated guess. It’s only the first day of holidays, teachers are still tidying up their last torture sessions while planning new ones,” I answered in a detached manner, grabbing the silver handle of the office door and pulling it open.

“Excuse me, hi,” I called to the elderly receptionist as we approached the desk.
“Yes. How may I help you dears?”
“I’m looking for Mrs Campbell. Is she in?”
“Mrs Campbell?”
“Yes.” The lady blinked in surprise.
“Mrs Campbell retired two years ago.” Damn.
“Do you, by any chance, have a phone number or an address so I could reach her?”
“Well I am afraid that I cannot disclose that kind of information.”
“Sorry, just the thing is, I have some questions for her.”

Okay, time to turn on the waterworks, December. Right on cue, tears welled in my eyes (lots of practise, there was always homework I wanted to get out of doing. But recently my teachers had started to catch on). “My sister used to be in her class and…” I pulled a tissue out of my bag and dabbed at my eyes. “Sorry. Um, she died and I just wondered if Mrs Campbell could help…bring some closure.” I sobbed and turned to Tommy, smirked, then buried my face in his chest. He patted my head – idiot.
“Oh, my dear. What was your sister’s name?”
“July Lambert,” I choked. Man I was getting good at this lying stuff or acting, whatever. Either way, I could’ve totally been a con artist later on in life – if I got that far, that was. My birthday, the thirteenth of December was now less than three weeks away. I heard the receptionist tapping in some things on her computer keyboard.

“Well it just so happens that I do have Mrs Campbell’s past address. She may have moved but I doubt it. It is not far from here actually.”
“That’d be great if you could get that for me,” I said, turning back to the woman, my eyes puffy as she smiled at me. The printer whirred into life and she leaned over to collect the piece of paper, then handed it to me.
“I hope this helps dear. Take a left from here, and then go down Cherry Avenue. Nott Street is just off that.”
“Thank you so much. Have a good Thanksgiving.”
“You too, dear.”

***

“Nice,” Tommy said as we began our walk.
“I know,” I replied and pulled out my iPod, offering him a headphone. I took out my cell phone. There were three messages: one from Dad and two from Mom. I’d tackle Dad’s first. I figured it would’ve been the easiest to answer.
Dad’s text: Hey. What’s wrong with Linda, Kiddo?
I quickly replied with: She’s overreacting. Tell ya later. Don’t judge.
Then, there were Mom’s texts…
Text number one: Where are you?
And text number two: Don’t you dare ignore me!
I rolled my eyes at that, imagining her face, before texting back: Excuse me for having a life. Go back to ‘Dr. Phil’.
“Who you texting?” Tommy asked.
“The parentals. Mom’s losing it, I swear.”
“No offense, but she looks like the crazy cat lady off ‘The Simpsons’.” I laughed, throwing my phone back in my bag, where it belonged.
“None taken.”

***

“Mrs Campbell?” I asked the lady who answered the door. She was slightly shorter than myself with short gray hair.
“Yes?”
“I’m December Lambert. You taught my sister, July,” Mrs Campbell sighed.
“I’ll go fetch some tea then. Come in, please.”

“Now. What would you like to know?” She asked, the tea and cookies already half gone – courtesy of Tommy.
“Not too much. We didn’t really intend to impose for that long. Just a quick few questions, I think.”
“Okay, go ahead.”
“My sister, how often would she do something wrong?”
“July? Psh! I remember her, a very talented academic, hardly ever got anything wrong, and very eager to prove herself.”
“Were you surprised when you heard about how her and Lauren died?” She gave me a severe look.

“Very. Seemed almost suspicious to me. July – Lauren too, were both strictly self-disciplined young women. It was highly unlikely that they would make mistakes, especially over something such as cooking. To mess up, was very out of character.”
“That’s what I thought. Anyway, we better get going. Thanks for the tea and stuff.”
“So that is all you wanted to know?”
“Yeah.”
“Ah well.” Mrs Campbell showed us out and Tommy and me ran to catch our bus home.

***

“Which one are you on?” I asked Tommy. We were sitting on my front porch, going through those fucking books.
“‘The Penultimate Peril’. You on ‘the End’?”
“Yeah, almost finished. Anyway, I was wondering…how did you get in this morning?” He shrugged.
“The door was unlocked.”
“That’s it?”
“Ye-up.”
“Well that’s not very exciting.”
“Nope but we can always get Timmy in trouble at work tomorrow?” I laughed.
“Maybe, after lunch.”
“Why then?”
“Because tomorrow morning I’m going through June’s things. It could take a while. Plus, we may need the afternoon and I’ll know where to find you then.”
“Wait, we’ve finished with July?”
“Not yet, but I’ve found something.”

On page three hundred and twenty-four, chapter thirteen of ‘the End’, a few words had been highlighted and another word crossed out.
‘Investigation’, ‘certain graves’ and ‘not the whole story’ had been highlighted in yellow. The second ‘is’ had been underlined, in the sentence, ‘It is not the whole story, of course, but it is enough.’
“So…July wants you to…?” Tommy started.
“I think she’s saying that for the investigation we need to go to the cemetery, that there may be some clues there. I don’t understand the other parts but I don’t think they’re related to the first bit. Anyway, did you find anything in your book?”
“Haven’t finished.”
“Hurry up!”

A few minutes later, Tommy grabbed my arm.
“Found something.”
On the last page of the story in ‘the Penultimate Peril’, ‘the notorious villain’ and ‘who they may become’ had been highlighted in the same yellow highlighter used in ‘the End’.
“What about these?” Tommy asked. My eyebrows creased.
“Hmm…” I stared at the words, waiting for something to click in my mind.
“So it’s a ‘they’,” he stated, snapping me out of my trance-like state.
“What?”
“You didn’t think of this?! Man I’m kickass!”
“Shut up and tell me,” I said, glaring at him, anxious for him to explain. I don’t think I’d ever seen him smile so wide, and that was saying something, for him.
“No, I’m savoring the moment!” I elbowed him. “Ouch! Anyway, it was more than one person who killed your sisters.”
“Yeah well, Mom and Dad. I think we’d all guessed that much, but I don’t think anyone else wanted to believe it.”
“So, it’s the rents then?”
“We’d need hard evidence to prove it and somehow, I don’t think it’s that simple. It’s almost too obvious but I don’t know, it very well could be. They’ve topped the suspect list since the beginning. Oh and you better get to Timmy before he leaves work,” I told him. “I’ll try figure out what these words mean later.”
“I forgot about him! Alright, See ya!”
“Bye,” I answered absentmindedly as he left.

***

“Not the whole story…” I muttered.
“Hey Kiddo!” Dad said boisterously and I jumped in my seat. I hadn’t even heard him come in.
“Dad! Hey!” He walked stepped further into my room, and sat down on my bed. The door was shut.
“Your mom told me what happened.” I snorted.
“Yeah, her version.” I had to admit, although it kind of pissed me off, the whole ‘tension’ between Mom and me meant that she’d stopped hovering. Didn’t stop Dad though.

“So do you want to tell me your piece?”
“Basically, Tommy, a friend from school, came over ‘cause I’d been off for a bit and he’d just arrived, was giving me a hug – in greeting and Mom just happened to walk in at the wrong time.” Dad laughed and I raised an eyebrow. “Why? What did Mom say?”
“That, her words, ‘this just confirms that you’ve got boys in your bed’.” I caught the drift and chuckled. I couldn’t believe my mom thought I was sleeping around…what a stupid cow.
“Boys? As in plural?”
“Ridiculous, I know. Anyway, she’s expecting me…to, uh, punish you.”
“Oh, right. Um…MY PERSONAL LIFE IS NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!” I shouted, smiling a little.
“YOU ARE MY BUSINESS!” Dad bellowed, amusement in his eyes.
“NO-ONE SAID THAT I WAS! WHO I SLEEP WITH HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU!” That’ll make Mom happy.
“IT’S MY HOUSE!”
“MY ROOM! GET OUT!” I pointed at the door. “Night Dad,” I added lightly.
“FINE!” He yelled. “Nice show honey. Sleep tight.” And he slammed the door shut as he left. That’ll definitely make Mom happy.

***

Back to the books, I figured I was missing something. So I checked the covers. The tiny lettering of ‘Book the Twelfth’ on ‘the Penultimate Peril’ caught my eye. Of course! The books themselves were hints. The twelfth book was relevant to our family but the thirteenth, was the date of my birth. That or you could’ve considered the fact that there are thirteen books in the series, and the thirteenth was the last one (no, duh), the twelfth and the last.
Either way…July knew I was the one who’d investigate?!
Now things just got really freaky.