The light hits my face as the sun seeps through my purple curtains . I open my tired eyes, but close them as I feel a stinging sensation.

Don't you just hate light in the morning?

My eyes flutter open, much slower this time; adjusting to the morning environment. I lift my body off of my bed, and drag my legs over to my bathroom. I take a hot shower, letting the warmth of the water envelope me in a rush of heat. Brushing my teeth in a circular motion, I take a look at my reflection in the mirror. Large heavy bags drag down the skin beneath my eyes; like two large potato sacks. There is a dried crust of drool beneath my lips, stretching to my chin. My hair looks like a birds nest that has just been destroyed; sticking up in all different directions.

I turn off the tap, my hair dripping into the sink, tapping against white basin. I wrap a towel tight around my body, and make my way towards my wardrobe. Not bothering to make an attempt, I grab the first outfit I can find. A pair of black, ripped skinny jeans, and a white crop top. I finish my outfit off with my black Adidas hoodie. Satisfied, I watch my reflection in the floor length mirror beside my bedside table.

You can never go wrong with black and white.

As I trudge down the stairs, I adjust my bag on my shoulder; making sure it doesn't fall off.

"Hey mom," I give her a kiss on the cheek, as I sit on the chair beside the counter.

"Hey sweetie," I could hear the love in her voice.

She puts a plate of bacon and scrambled eggs I front of me, the overwhelming aroma entering my nostrils, and unwillingly taking over my sense of smell. I don't take two seconds to dig in to my meal; the crumbs falling onto my lap. My mom watches me with an amusing glint in her giant green orbs.

"Careful love. We don't want to be choking, do we?" I laugh lightly, swallowing the remaining contents of my breakfast.

"But we also don't want to be late for school either. Do we?" I answer cheekily. She laughs wholeheartedly, before pulling a mega sassy pose, "Don't you be getting sassy with me, chicken." I let out a series of giggles, while clutching my stomach tightly.

My mom can be really childish at times.

***

I tap my fingers against the cold hard table; sending a loud vibration through my whole body. I never had been a big fan of Calculus. Never will be. I am quite good at it, I will admit that. Not trying to be big headed here or anything. But one thing I don't understand how it will help me in my later life. I'm not going to need to know what 2x-3 is for my career choice. I wanted to be a lawyer, or a fashion designer; two very different options, I know. But they are just things I enjoy, textiles has always been a love of mine, and after watching many, many, episodes of CSI:Miami; I have become interested in the world of law. So yea, not gonna need Calculus in any way, shape, or form.

"Miss Pearson!" Our teacher exclaims loudly. I snap my head up to look up to him, trailing away from my thoughts.

"Yes," I question, embarrassedly. My cheeks turn a bright shade of red, as I feel everyone's penetrating gaze burning through my soul.

I hate being put on the spot.

"What is the answer?,"he asks me, pointing to the board, where there is a question scribbled in black pen, a smug smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He clearly thinks I won't know the answer.

I read over the question, and answer without a second thought.

"The answer is 9x-4." The corners of my mouth tug up into just as much of a smug smirk.

Point, Natasha.

By the stunned look on his face, it's easy to interpret that he didn't expect me to know the solution.

Well, surprise surprise.

My short victory is cut off as the bell rings, indicating the end of the school day. I grab a of my things, and tuck them safely into my bag. I then get up, and walk out of the room. I walk over to my lock; swiftly entering the locker combination, as I put my books inside. I then proceed to walk out to the parking lot, to meet Brody.

"Hey there," I say as I take a seat in the passengers side.

"Hey," replies Brody as he pinches my cheeks. I pout as I squat his hands away.

"Don't touch my face. No. No no no no no no no. Just no. Infact-

"I get it. No toucho el faco," Brody cuts me off, attempting to speak Spanish. Or is it Italian. It's so bad that I don't even know what language it is. I smile a little too sweetly at him, as he backs the car out of the parking lot.

"No toque mi cara," I say.

"What?"

"Don't touch my face."

***

"Breaking news! According to our reliable sources, the Midnight Murderer's identity has reportedly been revealed. 27 year old Nina Thorns has been arrested for the consecutive murders of 12 different people. According to our sources, Nina entered the police station yesterday, at midnight, and accepted responsibility for the murders. The confession came at a time when the police were getting closer and closer to the culprit. So maybe Nina feared her arrest, and decided to just give up the dirty game that she has been playing. Why or how she managed to commit these crimes has not yet been revealed, however the police have taken her into custody. "This investigation is still ongoing, so we cannot give out any more information than this. But what I can tell you is that Nina's confession matches the evidence." These are the words of Officer Brooks, head detective on this case. So it this is? Is Westbrook finally free of a serial killer. Will Nina Thorns be charged guilty, or will she be free to go. Keep up to date with us to know the dates of the trial. Goodnight. And I hope, that for the first time in a while, everyone sleeps a peaceful, and fearless sleep tonight. Melissa Hill reporting to you live from Fox Studios. Goodbye."

I don't think I can breath. My breath hitches in my throat, and it's as if time has frozen.

I can't believe it.

It's over.

It's finally over.

I sigh a huge sigh of relief, as does Brody. We both look at each other; an expression of relief permanently etched onto our faces. Suddenly. Out of nowhere. Like literally. Totally unexpectedly. I jump up and start doing air guitar on the couch. I dance around like a llama on crack.

"FREEDOMM!" I scream loudly. I probably blew up the whole neighbourhood with my loudness. Brody looks at me with an unreadable expression. I stop my little celebration, and go an sit down next to him. I ruffle his hair playfully, earning a smack to my arm, "What's wrong Brods?" I question softly.

"Nothing," he replies.

Bullshizm at his finest.

"Stop Bullshitting me Brods," I tell him seriously. He turns to look at me, that unreadable expression once again taking over his features.

"It's over. Finally. Those innocent victims will get the justice they deserve. It's over Tasha. No more unnecessary deaths. It's over," he admits, looking me straight in the eyes.

Wow. Ok. That was deep.

So you get me. Brody. And the seriousness surrounding us. As I look Brody in the eyes, I blurt out the most unexpected thing a person could say at a moment like this.

"I like monkeys." Brody looks at me with a blank look, but it isn't long before we're both howling with laughter like we're on crack.

Yep. You can count on the Tashmeister to lighten up a situation.

"You're so weird," Brody mutters, just loud enough for me to hear. He shakes his head as he lets out a deep chuckle.

That sexy, sexy, deep chuckle of his.

Snap out of it Tasha!

"Pero esa es la cosa . Soy raro , pero raro es fresco . Una pequeña rareza de vez en cuando puede hacer realmente las personas buenas . No es bueno para ser normal, todo el tiempo . ¿Dónde está la diversión en eso . Intentarlo alguna vez. Puede ser un poco raro de forma gratuita. Rareza es la vida . Rareza es la misma."

Brody looks at me like I've grown two heads. "What?"

I smirk smugly, watching Brody in amusement.

"Supongo que nunca sabrá."

***

Sooooo! The murderer's been caught! But why. Why did she do it? It's finally over!!

Or is it?

Ari x