The Voice Inside

The Fall Before The Storm

Nothing is worse than being "known" in a small town. There's nowhere to hide; you can run into the ten other kids your age or the old ladies who gossip about what happens. Plus, with my school year coming to a close, gossip is already everywhere. So, as of right now, I'm sticking with the old ladies. At least I get biscuits. Plus arent libraries supposed to be a place for students as well. Like I was expecting, maybe like a church room, or even a coffee shop for such lovely ladies. No the aunties like the library, "it's just so quiet and peaceful." I've stared at the same page in my book for a while, just listening to them ramble on. Kathy, who runs the bakery on main, is pregnant. Tim, who is going through his second divorce, is probably the father. Seth, who's Tim's son, seems to stick to corners and is "too edgy and odd for our town," appears to be the reason if you ask Martha. Ruth and Agatha think it's Tim who's the bad influence; However, Karen considers its the whole family who's bad news. I'm just glad they aren't speaking about me for once, but I disagree; Seth is the one all the girls want. He has charming blue eyes, his hair is dark chocolate wavy hair, that always seems to be windswept. His eyes, however, seem to always look past you into your thoughts. Like he's picking apart what you're thinking. Making known. Although he stopped talking to me and started avoiding me after Sam passed, I still think he's cute; I mean, I don't have many options here.

"Agatha, I tell you that Seth boy needs to leave this town sooner rather than later. He just means trouble for the whole area!" Ruth bantered to Martha.

"No, NO, ruth honey, it's the whole Greene family! That blood is worse than Kathy's egg salad recipe." This time it was Karen. Which filled my head with a laugh that started with a snort. Sam.

"Oh man, Lilah, If they only KNEW Seth. He is bad news in some fun ways. Sad, he stopped hanging out with us. Well, I guess you know." I rolled my eyes at that. Seth is as much "trouble" as I am, and the only reason I'm considered awful news is sneaking out and watching the stars with a beer or two. In their defence, Sam didn't just pass away peacefully. The terms the cops use were "Suspected foul play" and Who "Might strike again." I was also the prime suspect for a while, as I also didn't have an alibi. I still remember our high and mighty chief or police telling me, "Being blacked out drunk in the hotel bathroom isn't an alibi as you were left alone." As if I could move. After my lawyer and a doctor proved, I had enough alcohol in my system that I would feel the hangover for weeks. They also said probably should've been taken to the hospital that night; I was cleared, but now I was a victim. They assumed it might have been premeditated, and I was also a probable target. I didn't believe them, but the other students at school sure did. No one wanted to be near me, thinking I was the real target, and whoever missed would miss again.

"Stop thinking about it, Lilah." Sam, my oh so great second conscious, always trying to stop the overthinking. I whisper back, "You really don't know who did it."

"It was an accident, but I can't remember who. You should remember more than me; you didn't fall off that ledge. You saw us together." How can he think I would remember. Who killed Sam.