Framed

January 19th, Monday 2015- BREAKING NEWS (15+ ONLY)

‘Yesterday, at the brink of sunset, much-missed nine-year old May was found. However, not in a way that you all would rejoice and jump with glee. She was found dead. In Bodferin, where the ancient stones of the ruin- collectors were scattered, the ones as big as towering gods, she was found. It seems she was stabbed with a butter knife, as the killer just left it there. It brings great pain to all of us at who would do such an abhorrent crime, and we have even let go of the Malaysian Drug case that has been going on, to work on this. Take a moment to pray for the loss of this valued child, and her family...’

You've been framed.

I just sat there, with my boss and colleagues just gaping at the screen. A moment? I would have this young girl’s truly awful murder in my mind for all of eternity. Me and my fellow workers were just sitting there in shock; however Imhet Rellik, our boss, was the first to recover. Tight-lipped, she motioned for us to get back to our work- twelve hours a day of professional framing for not-so-well-known artists. The work promised good income but was so tedious, the only thing that lightened it up, was our boss, who was young, kind and overall our best friend. She told us all the secrets we wondered, she put jazzy music on while we were working, cracked jokes with us and never failed to let us off usually an hour early. She was a great replacement of our old boss,Savanna Chaplin who was old, irritant, never a good sport, who then mysteriously vanished into thin air. I was really afraid. If this was the height of murder now, who knows what may happen in even the next few hours?

You've been framed.

Then the phone rang. “Flo, this is for you,” yelled Imhet, in a piercingly cheerful and sing-song voice. Gingerly, I took it, confused by the sudden burst of happiness at this moment of time, and also why would anyone ring ME at this hour. I pressed the answer button. "Hello, is this Florence Meadow,aged twenty-one,from the business 'You'll be framed'? You are required to report to Bodferin Police Centre immediately, and please bring your work badge and some sort of ID with you. " quickly bellowed a harsh and spiteful voice. Before I'd even had a chance to ask why, they'd cut me off. I reached into my blazer pocket. Where was my purse? I shrugged the matter off, I'd find it later and I supposed I didn't really need it. I glanced around in the mirror, where was my badge? Glancing at the clock, I decided I should make a run for it. "Flo, take my car," purred Imhet. I was off to the police station in a jiffy, in a state of confusion and worry.

You've been framed.

I was right. The policeman on the phone had deliberately snubbed me about my badge and ID card. They were not under the dresser, or behind a stack of matte frames. They were within a hands distance of May. No, no, no...

You've been framed.

You've been framed.

You've been framed.

Thirty feet in front of me, sat the interrogation manager. With a disgusted voice and look of contempt, our conversation went like this:

'Pray tell me, where were you when this crime seemed to be committed?

I swear, I was at home, sleeping or in front of the telly.

Do you have any proof, do you live with anyone, or near anyone?

No, I live in a single storied, solitary confined home, by myself.

Aha! Tell me, is it true you used to work in a knife factory?

Yes, I used to work in their, but I quit years ago.

I SEE. Lastly, are you in possession of this knife?

I was shocked at the last statement. I kept the knife in the garage, and I swear I hadn't used it for ages. I muttered yes, but no matter how much I pleaded not guilty, I knew I had no hope. I was done. It was over for me.

I'd been framed.

I'd been framed.

I'd been framed.

3 weeks later

Imhet came to visit me once. She demanded to be let into my cell, and for all the guards to be driven away. Then, in an unexpectedly menacing tone, she whispered, "0,0,0,0 as a code combination for your garage, huh? Rubbish." It was only after she left I noticed.

It was her.

I then lost all hope in life, my only words being that it was her.her.her...

January 20th, Tuesday 2015-BREAKING NEWS

'Florence Meadow, accused of the murder of May Hope was found crying in her cell last night. But no, she is not the person we hate the most right now. It is Imhet Rellik, her former boss, whom we should hate the most. For a group of genius scientists have notices that Flo's DNA was not on the knife used and around the ancient runes. It was Imhet's. Also, the tools used were never touched by Flo, but Imhet's DNA was out in the open. Imhet Rellik=I'm the Killer. It seems that Imhet wanted to take revenge on her childhood rival,Marissa Lowell but by slaughtering her daughter. Now we-'

Imhet sat there in shock. She was speechless. Yes, with the confidential methods of the scientists, her own act of stupidity was just what she needed. She thought about it. Gentle, sweet and caring, Marissa had been the perfect one. She was glad. Glad that she died of cancer a year ago, so in heaven, she could hit Marissa Lowell right where it hurt, like how she hit Savanna with a club and buried her under her kitchen. Then it was so satisfying killing May, and framing Flo when-

A dark mist crept into the room. Flecks of red, with the smell of dried blood filled the air. Then the smells came. of burning human flesh, and rotting corpses. Imhet laughed, next thing, she thought, it'll be vampires. Then the liquidfied ghost of May came in, followed by Savanna, then hundreds of the others she murdered or tortured, Marissa, Collin... They closed into her. Biting, then clawing...

She never saw what hit her. She was floating upwards, to a snowy, exquisite heaven. St Peter arrived. Imhet was confused. Heaven? Then St Peter morphed into Satan, as the background changed into hell.

"What'd you do to get into heaven, as you thought?"

She'd been framed.