“Who said you could come in?”
it didn’t look like a crime scene, it looked like his second period english classroom with a few police officers outside. nothing out of the unusual for their school; what was unusual was the lack of students when he walked inside. instead of being greeted to his peers & hearing their relentless giggles (the usual routine for whenever fogell walked into a room), he was greeted with the whispers of police officers & detectives. fingers gesturing around the room, pointing in various directions of various pieces of evidence, the scent of freshly brewed coffee & the metallic scent of dried blood seeping through the room. his immediate reaction: he gulps & hears the words moments after, his head turning in her direction.
❛ there wasn’t any ... yellow tape? isn’t there supposed to be crime scene tape... this is a crime scene, right? i mean, that’s a dead body right behind you. ❜ an index finger is pointed behind her, a detective’s camera flashing as they snap another picture of her decaying face. yeah, this is a crime scene; i shouldn’t be here. ❛ oh my god, that’s an actual dead body — a dead person. ❜ without warning, he can feel the wave beginning to form inside his stomach; it doesn’t take but two seconds before he’s hunched over, his tuna fish sandwich lunch spewing out from his lips like a cascading waterfall.
