I sit their with my head in my hands, pain echoing throughout my body. I thought that I was going to be forever alone, left here to wither away in my sadness, but no, someone found me, comforting me, while we waited for the police to arrive.

With the police now here, I watch them tear apart the classroom, as they search for anything that could make sense of this devastating occurrence. Their was nothing, well only the note. The note that stated my closest friend chose to remove himself from life on earth. It seemed impossible to me but, then it would, because no one could ever imagine the person that they loved so dearly was capable of such a deed.

I feel a colossal chunk of flesh tightly grip my shoulder from behind. I turn my head to see Sheriff Carlos Cortez smiling at me, I respond with a weak smile, that I'm able to muster from somewhere within my heart.

The Sheriff was a rather plump, well rounded man, but his large circular stomach only helped in reflecting his passionate, sympathetic and caring heart. This man before me was full of life, character and charisma. Clive may well be the brains of this town, but Carlos was most certainly the heart, the one every one turned to, when they needed a shoulder to cry on. I mean if only they had worked together, they would have been an unstoppable team, a force to be reckoned with.

I knew why he was here, I was a witness and I held the key to a lot of information. Of course I was willing to give him that key but not here, I needed his full focus and attention. I knew here he would be easily distracted, not truly comprehending the information, that would throw a spanner in the works, disproving this was in fact a suicide. I knew if the information was not clearly relayed, then the Sherriff would see no reason to take action. Therefore, leaving my friend dead with injustice.

"Look, Sheriff, is there any way we can talk about this somewhere else."

I mean ordinarily, had I asked anyone else, they would've blatantly refused, playing the "I've got enough on my plate" card. I wouldn't blame Carlos if he turned around and said those words, but no, Carlos was a different sort of man. He instead, turned round and said "Not a problem, I'll meet you at Nora's, in let's say 20 minutes."

With that I smile gratefully, running home to change into something more appropriate.

I'm finally ready to leave, after taking my sweet time in deciding what to wear. I wasn't sure whether to go with casual or smart. Casual seemed to informal, to impolite and therefore, the Sheriff wouldn't take me seriously. Smart seemed to forward, to pushy and therefore the Sheriff wouldn't take me seriously. I knew that this wasn't exactly life or death, but I felt duty bound to find the truth of Clive Forsham's unfortunate circumstance. Starting from now, every minute counted, every second of every day was key and essential. I couldn't afford to make any mistakes because the justice of a friend laid in the palm of my hands.

Nora's was a small, quaint little café, on the corner of the high street. It had been their long before I arrived. A place where all the food was specially made, no artificial Ingredients, just the exact amount of each ingredient weighed in each every dish. She got the recipe for her truly mouth-watering meals, through her grandmother's secret recipe book. Each and every dish you tasted was like stepping across into another dimension, another reality.

I step inside the café, where a familiar face and hot chocolate awaits me. I take a seat, wasting no time in getting down to business.

"Hey Sheriff, I really appreciate you coming out here, I know you're incredibly busy and all that, but I have to tell you something. I don't think this was a suicide."

He was taking a sip from his coffee, when I blurted out those words. Those words interrupting his thoughts, causing the coffee he had just drunk to be released all over my face. I was now covered in slobber and coffee, my day just getting worse and worse.

The Sheriff rushes over to me, grabbing a napkin from the table and attempting to wipe his dribble from of my face. He apologises profusely but I reassure him, telling him I will head home and take a bath. Right now I needed him to see this whole ordeal  through my perspective, to see the truth.

"Please could you elaborate, I'm sure that you're not wrong, but a locked door and a suicide note seem very conclusive to me. Unless of course their is something I have missed."

He held a very valid point, the note and door were highly plausible pieces of evidence and could only be refuted by real substantial facts. It's a real shame that all I had was a hunch, a text and anomaly.

I reach into my bag, pulling out my phone and finding the message that Clive left behind. The message in which I ignored, the one that Clive pleaded for rescue, help and a friend. The friend that never came.

A tear rolls down the side of my face, as I dig myself into blame. I watch as Carlos closely examines the message now displayed on my screen. He pulls his head away quickly and glances at my sad and pitiful face. He takes my hand in his, gently squeezing it to show that he understood my pain. I look up into his violet eyes, that further helped to capture his flamboyant manner.

"I know you desperately want to believe that Mr Forsham did not take his own life but, at this moment in time it all seems very conclusive. This message, I am afraid to say does not in fact proof anything, he could have just as easily been asking you to save him from himself rather than another individual." he says in his calm, understanding tone. He tried to work his away around the topic, choosing his words carefully, so as not to break my delicate heart.

I had expected this reaction, it helped to bring everything together, my plan now beginning to take suit. My plan consisted of dear Carlos believing that he in fact had the upper hand but, in fact it was me pulling the reins from beneath. I drip fed the information in, whilst acting like a lost and clueless soul. I had one simple goal to achieve, make Carlos Cortez question what he saw their today.

"I know that message does not exactly prove anything but, I have something else, something that does not make sense in all of this. We all heard the sound of the gunshot erupting through the air, the sound that alerted us all there was something going on. Working on the assumption Clive was poisoned and you found no gun at the scene of the crime, I raise the question, why did we hear that nightmarish sound that shattered my heart?"

I watch as Carlos face turns from his charming, welcoming smile to a look of bewilderment and confusion. It takes a while for my words to sink themselves inside his mind but, once they do, his jaw opens with pure shock, as he looks at me astonished, unable to grasp how I with less experience knew seemingly more about the crime than himself.

 "I  do strongly believe that the cause of death was poison because my initial examination showed no sign of bodily harm or physical aggression. Therefore, you hold a very valid point and although this is not substantial evidence I still feel as if it warrants an Investigation." Carlos states in a manner that tries to capture his (lacking) expertise.

I smile gratefully at him, watching him put on his jacket and turn to go. Suddenly, something stops him, and he turns back to face me with a pleading look upon his face, desperate to ask a question but, unsure of my reaction. I place my hand on his, reassuring him, that he could ask me anything.

He takes a deep breath, before saying this "Look, I know it's technically my job to talk to relatives of the deceased but, honestly I don't think I can. I know it's a lot to ask, but could you tell the girls what happened."

I nod my head in agreement, a sense of relief washing over Carlos. I thought it ironic that the man that nursed every villager, now needed my help, it was like that famous question when someone is known for their great deeds, we all wonder when they become wounded, who helps them?