Week 2 of dice games. My prompt this week was, There’s a suspected murderer next door.
Rachel looked out the window wishing something would happen, anything really. Life had been so dull since Poppy went away. She really hoped that Poppys parents relented and let her come back soon. But even if that happened she wasn’t sure that her parents would let her be friends with Poppy anymore. Something about being bad for each other. It was just that with Poppy by her side Rachel felt more confident, able to see more than she would normally. Rachel and Poppys parents called it meddling where they didn’t belong, but Rachel and Poppy had been so sure that they were on to something, that they weren’t just being “pesky kids.” Just because they parents had watched too much Scooby doo, Rachel and Poopy were paying the consequence.
Rachel and Poopy sat in the tree housing, legs swinging over the side of the platform. They loved it, being able to see what was happening, to feel the freedom, not to have grown ups snooping, listening to their every word. It was from here that they had started to watch Mr Smith next door. Rachels mum had told them not to annoy him, that he was sad because his wife had died and he was all alone now. But Rachel and Poppy thought that he was all alone because he was so mean. They watched him grumble at the postman. They had seen him send away the boys who just wanted there ball back. He had shouted at them telling them that they should have been more careful, that no one went in his garden, no one was even to see in his garden. Well that was what Mr Smith thought, he didn’t know that the girls were sitting high up in the tree, seeing all, but unseen. The high wall didn’t stop them from seeing all. They saw Mr Smith sat looking at the big square stone at the end of the garden. It looked like a grave stone. Rachel and Poopy were sure that was what it was, that he must have his wife buried there. As they talked they started to wonder if that was where she really was buried? Why was he so protective of the garden?
They had such a good view of the garden. They had seen the immaculate lawn, which he mowed weekly to make sure that it was in beautiful lines. The flower beds that were show perfect. But off to one side there were other things, maybe the things that stopped Mr Smith letting people in. Maybe that was what he was trying to hide. They had watched as he dug a deep and long trench. They had speculated what it was for. They were sure that he was digging another grave. What else could be that shape or size? They could think of nothing else that would need him to have trench like that.
One day much to Rachel and Poopys amazement they had seen Mr Smith in the garden with a female who looked so beautiful, like a princess. Rachel and Poopy thought that they had never seen anyone so beautiful. Mr Smith had looked so happy, he looked younger when he smiled. Maybe he wasn’t so scary after all. Rachel and Poopy had left there view point that day, to get a snack. When they returned Mr Smith did not look happy. In fact he looked very mad, they could just here him shouting at her. “you are dead, I will never see you again.” They had seen her run in to the house followed by Mr Smith. Next day they watched as Mr Smith filled in the trench, they had watched as he made a bonfire first of weeds and leaves, but then they had seen him bring out clothes and put them on there. They had watched as he put what looked like a young womens clothes on the fire, as he had wiped away a tear. They knew they had to tell somebody, but who? Their parents would just tell them off, tell them that they should stop making up stories. How could they make sure they were believed? They needed evidence, they needed to get in and find something…….
That was when all the trouble had really started. They knew that if they could just get evidence that people would believe them. They had sneaked into the garden with little problem, and even found somewhere to hide no problem, but working out how to get the end of the clothes that they could see wouldn’t burnt without being seen, defeated them for a long time. They kept thinking it would be ok, then Mr Smith would come and sit in the garden again. After dark they crept out and picked up the piece of material they could see. Then running they thought for their lives, or so they thought. They had decided that now was the time to tell the police, surely they would be taken seriously now that they had evidence. They had felt so let down, they made it to the police station but the police seemed to think that they were making things up, and had just tossed away the material, but had been more worried about returning them to their very worried parents. That was when their parents had said no more, they were a bad influence on each other and weren’t to see each other anymore. It felt like weeks even though Rachel knew that it had only been a few days. Sighing Rachel went to pick up the paper for her mum, looking at the front page she read the headline missing, and saw a photo of the girl from the garden.