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Scene Kid #1 knew her. She seemed friendly but a bit strange. She seemed stressed out but who wouldn't be when they were standing over the dead body of their boyfriend. Oh, and her name was Penelope. She wondered how it was spelled. Two p's, two l's, two n's? She found it weird how names were spelled. They were like, all different and she couldn't know how to spell them until she saw. When people introduced themselves, they didn't come with a subtile or a background screen with their name written in big letter in a funny background. No, she had to guess it and she hated it.

The perks and the cons of meeting Penelope were equal. She didn't appear on the announcement which met she didn't get a kill yet. She was either a pacifist or an opportunist. Either way, she didn't really want her around her. A pacifist without the "fist" part meant she would let her die if someone was threatening her and an opportunist meant she was waiting for a moment of weakness to kill someone. Perhaps Dot was totally wrong on both sides but it was black-or-white now. People were either out to kill her or she was out to kill them. The little gray area that existed for a while was gone.

Scene kid #2 was not speaking. Her blue hair and her blue outfit matched the blue aura that surrounded them. They didn't seem quite sad but more melancholic. The kind of down mood that was kinda up but not really. Fuck, what was she thinking? Did that make any sense? She mentally knocked her self on the head for being a dummy and spacing out in front of two students that could probably be her death.

"So, hum."

Space filler. That was the best thing she could muster up. It was an awkward position with the girl's dead boyfriend and her friend beside her and all of that. That wasn't a good place to be but Dot wanted to make small talk though. She wanted to ask them questions like 'what's their favorite class' or 'what do you plan to do after high school' but these questions were quite out of place especially since only one of them will have the chance to go to college and their favorite class didn't really matter here.

She said the five words that seemed the most appropriate. If her boyfriend was dead, someone must have killed him. Especially how he was looking from here, it didn't look like self-inflicted wounds. Someone must have taken something and smashed it against him a couple of time. A chair? A 2x4? A very small tricycle for a clown? She wasn't sure but that must have hurt.

"So, who killed your boyfriend?"
me by naft
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Anemia · The Asylum Library