Grade 10 - A draft  for a Crime short story, i found when going through my old emails, it was orginally longer, but  this is what i have. Did some minor changes. (mostly spelling) The Title would have made sense if i had the full story. I think I name it that because all the characters names were Italian food

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In one of the vacant officers of the school I sat opposite Sergeant Fettuccine and the Chief Inspector, who was staring out the window. “So why were you there at the time?” Fettuccine asked looking up from his note book. Laying my head back I stared up at the ceiling.

I took a long heavy sigh looking at my watch. I knew the bell was going to go soon. Standing up, brushing down my skirt as a force of habit, I headed for the long winding stairs down from the fifth floor.

The Inspector turned to face me, the crease deep in forhead, and the baggy eyes that seemed to only be awake by the means of strong caffeine. “Did you notice anyone or anything out of place?”

As usual no one was around. Just the way I liked it. Free from any distractions, allowing my mind to wander freely. Free to dream.

With ever question I answered I could see it lead me closer to my possible future imprisonment. My future all alone. No family, no life.

“What happen when the event occurred?” Sargent Fettuccine asked now pacing the tiny room.

Only half way down the first flight of stairs there was a distance clash.  Instinctively, walking at a slightly faster pace I continued to where the sound originated. Only several seconds after the second clash came a death curdling fatal scream.

 “What did you do when you heard the victim? Did you walk away? Did you touch her? Or did you do nothing” The sergeant asked trying to find fault in my replies.

 ‘A surge of energy shot through my legs. As I turned the corner the scream was silenced by the sudden crash of glass shattering stories below me. That same energy suddenly drained from my limbs again, pulling me to an abrupt halt on the open balcony. There was no one there. The balcony platform felt unusually exposed in the late summers air. I leant forward to peer over the edge. A strong dizzying sense of vertigo washed over me. I closed my eyes for a moment and regained my composure. When I opened them again I realised the guard rail of the balcony had been ripped out and was hanging freely from the platform. A unexpected cold gust blew strands of hair across my face.’

“What did you hear when you reached the balcony?”  The Inspector asked taking notes in her little investigation booklet, her script beautifully neat. She clicked the pen several times waiting for my answer.

 I heard an angry male’s voice echo across the school yard, “Are you ok?!” Pushing my curls out of my face I peered over to where a girl laid still on the ground with a teacher kneeling down beside her.

“What could you see over the platform when you got there?” The Inspector asked taking more notes in her note pad. As elegant as her handwriting was the page made my innocence more and more non-existent the further we continued.  I looked up and continued.

Her hair laid fanned out over the ground, flooded in a red ooze. A gathering crowd of students surrounded the body all with a worried expression on their face. “Was it you?” the loud voice from before asked. Confused I looked to where the voice came from. “Did you push her?” the voice of the teacher echoed towards me.

The Inspector and Sargent Fettuccine looked at me picking at my nails. Getting up from the hard old school chair I glanced out the window to where it had all happened.

The crowd all looked up at me all with the same question on their lips, ‘Was she a murder?’