The air was heavy, and a strong breeze pushed and trampled throughout the day. Gray clouds covered every inch of the sky, and plants drooped with sad faces. The square was empty and restaurants were closed. The fountain was drained of putrid water and stained red with blood. The town was quiet and the only sound was the muffled cries of the victim’s family and friends.
It was the day of the trial for the murder of Emily Cruz, and everyone in town was at the courthouse. The courtroom was packed to the brim with the citizens of South Valley. The courtroom was hot and stuffy, and the spectators were all on the edge of their seats nervous about the outcome. The room fell silent as the jury took their seats and the judge called the court to order. The attorney for the accused then stood up to make his claim. “My client, James Harold, is innocent, your honor.” The crowd gasped and a rush of whispers spread across the courtroom.
“My client has stated that he has never met the deceased. He states that to his knowledge, Emily Cruz was all but a name.” Soon the prosecutor chimed in and an enormous debate erupted. Furious protests and shouting erupted between the two sides of the courtroom gallery. Spit was flying as words that should not be repeated were stated. Order was called and the courtroom hushed as a witness was called to the stand.
“Grace Williams. You have stated that you and your best friend Emily Cruz went out the night of her murder. Is that correct?” Questioned the prosecutor.
“Yes, that is correct.” Grace nervously answered as she fidgeted with the buttons on her shirt.
“Please tell us exactly what happened that night, and be as detailed as possible.”
The air was chilling and the trees were bare. It was February sixteenth around 3 pm when we had finished our classes for the week. Emily insisted that we go out dancing to celebrate the weekend. However, I couldn’t shake the feeling we were being watched throughout the week. Doors and windows were being left open, objects were dropped in the middle of the night, and dirty shoe prints were left on the carpet. Despite my instincts and worries, I gave in to the excitement of celebrating with Emily and started to get ready.
As we left our dorm, a bone-chilling feeling consumed me as we exited the safety of our building. The streets of South Valley were bare, the lamp posts were flickering like broken spotlights, and the fountain in the square was rusted and barely flowing. The once mesmerizing sounds of the night were suffocated in silence. As we walked through the night, the only sound was our footsteps echoing into the emptiness. Until I heard the heavy footsteps trailing behind us, and picking up speed with each step. At the time I just brushed it off thinking that I was just being paranoid. But as we neared the halfway point of our walk, a twig snapped behind us. My heart pounded as I turned, but all I saw were the shadows of rustling leaves. Little did I know, in those shadows lurked an ominous presence.
Once we arrived at the club, we could feel that excitement in the atmosphere, yet I still felt like we were being watched. The loudspeakers, the dancing, and the smiles on people’s faces all felt fake. Then a swarm of men eagerly circled Emily, but one figure stood out. His name was James Harold, and his sinful gaze locked onto Emily and an evil look sparkled in his eyes. A flood of dread filled my stomach as he watched her. I fled the club alone hoping Emily would be right behind me, but she never followed and I returned to my dorm alone.
When Emily left the club a large and menacing figure emerged from the shadows. They grabbed Emily by the hair, dragging her to the fountain. Their grip was tight and strong, and with every struggle, the figure tightened its grip and shoved her face into the water. And with every try for a breath, water filled her mouth. Each time she came up for air, she was only to be forced back down, and with every breath she took, the amount of time she spent suffocating became longer and longer. The figure watched in awe as life slipped away in her eyes until there was nothing, and their twisted grin grew bigger with every passing second. Emily was gone and all that was left was a bloody stain on the fountain. Once the figure finished they released her body, letting it crash into the stone. They vanished into the shadow, and all that was left was her pale body, drenched in water and lying in a puddle of blood.
Tears ran down Grace’s face, as she recalled the memories of her friend. The courtroom was silent. “Thank you, Grace,” said the prosecutor. “As you can see from the evidence, James Harold is the killer.” The spectators gasped and the room was filled with confused looks. “Order! Order!” exclaimed the judge. “The jury will get a few minutes to discuss the matter and then we will reconvene.”
After the recess, the jury concluded. Everyone was anxious about what would happen next. “The jury has decided that the defendant is found… guilty.” Security then rushed in and aggressively dragged James Harold away in handcuffs, as he kicked and screamed. A sigh of relief rippled through the courtroom, as the citizens shuffled out the doors. However, the question still unanswered in the group was how did she know? How did Grace know how Emily had died if she was back at her dorm?
When Grace stepped out of the courthouse, a devious smile spread across her face, and her eyes sparked wickedly. She slipped into the black shadows, quiet as a mouse. Watching and waiting patiently for her next victim to arrive.