7 minute read
Something Dead, Something New Celine Noureddine
D A E D G N I H T E M O S
WO3 RK THREE
SOMETHING NEW
- CELINE NOUREDDINE
SOMETHING DEAD, SOMETHING NEW
Celine is a creative writer, using her imagination to entertain and to explore beyond the realm of this world. She invests her time exploring the law, justice, crime, truth, and everything in between. She channels such knowledge into her writing, an example being this murder mystery.
My blood was boiling. Drops of sweat glistened on my forehead as my lungs expanded and contracted. Oppressive heat suffocating what is left of fresh air. Everyone in this room happened to be affected by this wave of heat, except the body on the floor.
The thing is, I wasn’t exactly the best person to begin with. I was, and like to think that I still am, a high-achieving person. I dabbled in the art of minding my own business until I saw an obstacle in my way; it is then I made sure I crushed it to extinction. Whether that obstacle was a piece of paper or a human-being, I was more than happy to occasionally jump across the extreme ends of morality to get what I want.
A human-being. On the floor. Dead. Specifically a seventeen-year old student who just happened to be a new friend I had made. And I happened to be a suspect. Having been a very active participant during the time of her murder, I definitely could be the killer. I will neither confirm nor deny that, for I don’t trust you to keep your mouth shut. However, times are desperate now. I must narrate the events that have occurred these past two days. If I fall with the lies, I must make sure the truth lives.
SOMETHING DEAD, SOMETHING NEW
Celine is a creative writer, using her imagination to entertain and to explore beyond the realm of this world. She invests her time exploring the law, justice, crime, truth, and everything in between. She channels such knowledge into her writing, an example being this murder mystery.
In other words, I was quite the devil. I may have done a few things deemed as unethical, but luckily, or what I understood as lucky then, I had the gift of completely ignoring any inch of remorse I had felt. Looking back at the person I was pre-murder case, I realized that I was shallow. I was a fingertip, desperate to touch any inch of power, bringing down anyone who cared about me in the process.
Series of Prompts: One out of five December 21 2021 A police officer is currently staring suspiciously into my journal, as if a pond of blood would suddenly seep into one of the pages. I’m nervous. There is no blood, but there’s worse. Words. A lot of them. My thoughts were obsessive, ignorant, angry. That journal was my personal catharsis, I did not appreciate the intrusion of privacy yet I didn’t have much of a choice. I wanted to cry in frustration. Flipping through the pages, she inches closer and closer to the series of prompts about my new friend, potentially making me a primary suspect.
“I had won every medal, every trophy, every award that was within my reach.
SOMETHING DEAD, SOMETHING NEW
Celine is a creative writer, using her imagination to entertain and to explore beyond the realm of this world. She invests her time exploring the law, justice, crime, truth, and everything in between. She channels such knowledge into her writing, an example being this murder mystery.
I basked in the obvious jealousy underneath the fake “congratulations” , the radiating envy, even from my own friends. And the worst part is that I loved it. The agitation in my friends’ faces as I achieve what they wished they could but never can, what they dreamt of doing until I beat them to it. I’ ve been called a vulture, subtly stealing my friends’ ideas and eating at their authenticity. Though I don’t see the similarity considering vultures feed on the dead, and I feed on ideas that happen to be very alive.
There’s this secret mantra regarding being a good friend, which I never had to follow of course, and it is to always be happy for your friends’ achievements.
I don’t comprehend why I receive all this hatred either. If my dear friends preferred for me to not interfere in their achievements, then they shouldn’t talk about it. Anything that’s said in the air is for anyone to catch. You might even say that I’ ve done them a favour. I brought what they could never do and made it a reality. I am quite the success factor. The finest part of it all, is that they were forced to plaster a smile on their faces instead of unleashing the pure resentment they carried in their poor heavy hearts.
SOMETHING DEAD, SOMETHING NEW
Celine is a creative writer, using her imagination to entertain and to explore beyond the realm of this world. She invests her time exploring the law, justice, crime, truth, and everything in between. She channels such knowledge into her writing, an example being this murder mystery.
I welcomed the half-hearted hugs, arms extended as if to choke me, defeated laughter, and the few congratulatory words carrying an underlying flavor of fake surprise. I live in their negativity, like an unwanted guest overstaying their welcome, urging me to do more, to be more.
When congratulating me, she was genuine. There was not one speck of envy, no deeprooted resentment, simply admiration, as if I inspired her. I felt weird. I was angry, angry that she wasn’t jealous. I didn’t feel any power. I almost fell into guilt, that made me angrier, I was losing control.
Though the new girl surprised me. Having entered on a scholarship, I knew she had somewhat of a reasonable intellectual capacity; I felt the need to compete. I befriended her, allowed her to share her ideas. She was a chatter-box, bubbly and joyful. I ignored most of what she said, except when she had started babbling on and on about a science fair competition, expressing her excitement to potentially win. I knew this was my chance. Fast forward two weeks of preparation, I had won. I saw the sad smile on her face, but I also saw something new.
SOMETHING DEAD, SOMETHING NEW
Celine is a creative writer, using her imagination to entertain and to explore beyond the realm of this world. She invests her time exploring the law, justice, crime, truth, and everything in between. She channels such knowledge into her writing, an example being this murder mystery.
To my further surprise, she had asked me if I had wanted to be partners for another nearing competition. I quickly refused, claiming that we were better off as competitors. It was then I saw resentment in her expression. At last, a bit of power. Though, it didn’t feel as good as I thought. Perhaps I was feeling guilty. This is terrible. She’s too new. "
Nightmare would’ ve been an adequate adjective. It’s evident through this prompt and the rest to follow that I was conflicted, unfortunately a very prominent trait of a young murderer. I don’t like sharing my thoughts. I feel the urge to grab my journal and smack it on the officer’s head. How dare she read my thoughts so calmly, so blissfully, they are not hers to know. How dare she misunderstand the entire situation. If only I could not relive these horrendous few days. But I have to. Justice is worth the sacrifice.
