Home
So, I was reading a book about this school shooting, and this crazy idea came into my head.
Okay, so the idea was basically just that the UTAUs featured are normal people in their early 20s.
Nothing special.
One day, someone turns up dead. Probably a shooting, maybe a poisoning. Some people assert that they were a miserable person, and that it was a suicide. However, some people KNOW it was a murder. Those people are trying their hardest to get justice.
So, I was wondering if you guys would be interested in that, or should I just stick to the war?
I'll try to write you guys the scene that played in my head to inspire me:
Okay, so the idea was basically just that the UTAUs featured are normal people in their early 20s.
Nothing special.
One day, someone turns up dead. Probably a shooting, maybe a poisoning. Some people assert that they were a miserable person, and that it was a suicide. However, some people KNOW it was a murder. Those people are trying their hardest to get justice.
So, I was wondering if you guys would be interested in that, or should I just stick to the war?
I'll try to write you guys the scene that played in my head to inspire me:
- Spoiler:
- She was nothing short of an amateur. The dim lights made her look earthy and seemed to make her look like she was slightly on edge. Her teased hair looked borderline ratty, but he knew that she was trying to go for that look.
Her hand was at her ear as if she was holding a headphone up to the side of her head. He had a feeling that she did it to make it seem as if she was better than amateur, as if she had actually recorded in a studio before. She could have fooled him at first glance, but something about her voice seemed to raw to him.
Her eyes closed as she got to a more violent part of the song. It took him a few seconds, but he recognized the song. It was some song by an Irish group. He would have recognized it sooner, but her theatrical southern accent was butchering it. He wouldn't deny he liked how she sounded, but he wouldn't lie and say she did the song justice. He couldn't blame her for not doing the song right, though. The song was popular when she was a baby.
He had a feeling that she was a strange girl from her accent and her apparent liking of things before her time. Her look was one that seemed like a halfhearted attempt to be retro, and he had heard that she had a boyfriend old enough to be her father. Simply stated, she wasn't very much into the latest trends. The fact that the gun they found had a retro look to it made him start to suspect her even more.
When she finished singing, she opened her eyes wide and looked out at the audience as the clapped. The doe eyes and innocent smile made him lose faith in her ability to kill. As she was starting to leave the stage, he frantically started to flag her down. She noticed and quickly made her way to him.
"Miss Blythe?" He started when she sat down across from him. He could tell that she looked like she had stepped out of some earlier decade.
"That's me." She nodded, her accent gone, "I look a little strange today, 'cause I lost a bet."
He lost a little more faith in her being the killer. "Oh... So... I'm a detective working on Mr. Ensei's murder."
He could see her cringe at the mention of his name. She bit her lip and looked away, "Ayame and I... Ayame was like a big brother to me... I loved him so much, it was crazy..."
"So I've heard." He stared at her. At close range, her innocent expressions looked saccharine. It was easier to see some kind of monster lurking behind her doe eyes than a cute little girl.
"I was, like... I kinda..." She stumbled for words, "I died on the inside when he died..."
"How did you hear about the news?" He raised one eyebrow.
She paused and glanced at him. She bit her lip and shrugged, "I hate to admit it, but I got so drunk, I can't remember how I heard the news..."
"You drink?" He stared at her. Other than faint dark circles under her eyes, she looked like the picture of health.
"Well, my dead lover was a bartender. When I'm really upset, I drown my troubles in alcohol because it reminds me a bit of him... I only do it when I'm really upset, because when I'm drunk... Well, I'm really, really drunk." She looked back at the man across from her, "Do you want my number or something so that you can call me if you have any questions?"
"That might be nice..." He stared at her. She looked extremely uncomfortable, and that made him suspicious.
She grabbed a napkin and pulled a pen out of her pocket. She wrote down her number, then signed her name. She held the napkin out for him and smiled, "Maybe when I hit the big time, you can sell this for a fortune."
"Or maybe we can use this to find if your prints match any of the ones on the gun." He plucked the pen out of her hand, causing her to blush. He put it in his pocket. When he noticed her bottom lip quiver a bit, he pulled the pen out and put it in her hand. He put his hand over hers, trying to apologize.
"It's Ayame's pen... He gave it to me a few days before he died... Just 'cause I wanted to write something, but I never had a pen... If there were finger prints on it somehow, his would be on it... If you thought I did it... I wouldn't mind as much as if you guys found his finger prints on the gun... 'Cause... 'cause... that would mean..."
"Miss Blythe..." He backed away, "We'll keep you posted." He stood, noticing tears well up in her eyes.
He had a feeling that this wasn't a show. She had an extremely unstable personality.
She nodded and stared at the wall. He noticed there was nothing interesting on the wall, so he took his chance to make a quick escape.
