The atmosphere was very vivid and festive. It was our school's 30th anniversary, after all. Students smiled at me as they passed by, with cotton candies in hand- which were sold by our class' stall. We decided that it would be a wise idea to sell sweets, since everybody likes sweets. I mean, who doesn't?

"Eurydice!" Axel yelled as he ran towards me, with papers in hand. Hearing my name made me feel like a burden. Funny, when Eurydice, in Latin, means 'wide justice', when I couldn't even serve justice to her death.

"Here's the copy of our lessons in Journalism."

He handed me a piece and before I could even utter the words 'thank you', he already took off and distributed the remaining to our classmates. He ran like a cheetah. He's both athletic and smart, being the school's sportswriter. He knows almost every player and coach of different athletic teams and is very diligent with his duties.

I looked at the paper in my hand. It manifested the history of Philippine Journalism. Starting with the Precolonial period. Followed by the words: Spanish, American, Japanese, Post-Liberation, Golden Age of Philippine Journalism, and Martial Law Days. I knew a bit about them, since I rarely listened to our teacher, for I could always be seen looking by the window; appreciating the beauty of nature.

And maybe that is what made me the Lighthouse's reporter. I appreciated the liberty of expressing myself through words, and noting down scenes, moments, and memories. Of course, the liberty and freedom is all thanks to the Filipinos who fought for their rights and their will to express themselves during the periods when we were oppressed by numerous races and authorities.

I put the paper inside of my bag and held on to my notepad. I roamed the vast grounds of our school in search of a good story, a moment, to write, to be published in our weekly newspaper site.

Everything was in place, organized, and properly-maintained. Everyone was having fun. And in that moment of fun, I saw something at the rooftop of one of our school's building. It was a girl. So I raised my head and shifted it to the scene currently happening at the rooftop.

I could see a girl.

She's short-haired.

Fair-skinned.

And she's wearing... the arm band that only the Lighthouse's members wear. She's talking to someone. At the rooftop.

I took down that moment. I needed to. But before I even knew what was happening up there...

She was falling.

Her body looked tensed and scared of that moment.

Death, as it is.

But I just continued to take down the moment. I stood there and continued to do nothing.

A deafening fall.

She is on the floor.

My heart stopped beating. And at that moment, I felt like I was the murderer. I was the one who killed her. Not by my own hands. But my own uselessness.

Everything stopped at that moment. The students, the fun, the school's anniversary, even time felt forcedly stopped.

At one moment, laughter and smiles filled the area; now everything is about tears, sympathy, and somewhere out there... is joy. Someone out there is experiencing joy. Because I, for a fact, know that someone killed her.

A scream was heard. Followed by terrified whispers. What just happened spread like the plague. Students from every direction flocked to the location where she fell.

Yet, here I am. Standing. Doing nothing. Still the worthless person that I am; for beauty is not something to be proud of. It's everything that they praise about me. My beauty.

And I hate it!

But... even if I hated it to death, it's the only reason why I'm still breathing. And why my sister isn't.

"Please! Don't hurt my sister... she did nothing wrong. I'm the one who's ugly, worthless."

"You're right. Maybe I should just spare this beautiful little girl. And just come back for her when she grows older."

"No-!"

I stood at that moment, tears rolled down on my cheeks. Doing the same; doing nothing. Being worthless. I just watched her get slaughtered by that vicious murderer. And I did it again. I watched someone die. And if only this stupid and shallow thing called beauty could save lives... I could have saved two lives.

I saw Andrea and Klein rushing forward the scene, with their microphones and camera intact. Klein's our school news writer who accompanies Andrea, our school's feature writer, alongside the girl who fell... her twin sister, Bria. Bria's also our photojournalist... she could always be seen with a hi-tech camera laced in her arm.

I followed to the scene after them. I shoved people back just so I could get a glimpse of the murder, right up close.

Bria... she's drowning in her own blood.

Andrea was taken aback when she witnessed the scene. Her own sister, lifeless and swimming in blood, in front of her. Imagine how she must be feeling right now. The pain, the agony, the sorrow. Of not being able to help her sister at that moment.

But I could have done something.

Her collar ribbon was tied loosely. Her pinkish lips were now turning to the shade of death-pale purple. Her eyes were gracefully closed. Her hair was scattered, but in a manner that it looked like she just lay there and slept. Right, she looks like she's taking a nap. But the only thing that sent shivers down my spine was... she's smiling. She's smiling all through the lifelessness. Her smile was definitely, not a satisfied smile. It was a smile that meant something. It isn't just a simple smile.

I raised my pen and notepad. I started to write, to scribble words, until I halted.

This isn't what I should be doing.

I'm a reporter now. I have power, and the will. I have the power to help and investigate this murder. And I have the will to be useful, even just this once... It is my job, as a reporter, as a student, and as Bria's friend to help her seek justice. I can actually do something. I can be more than just a 'beautiful' girl. But how? All I know is that she didn't commit suicide like the rumors here say. I know that she has been murdered? By whom?

While slowly falling into a deep trance, someone held my shoulder lightly. I looked over my shoulder and saw Terrence, the Lighthouse's Editor-in-Chief and editorial writer. He came with Luna, the editorial cartoonist. Almost everyone at the Lighthouse's presence can be felt, except, of course... Bria. I stared at Bria's smile once more. It sent another set of shivers down my spine.

I, once again, observed everybody. And that was it. I left all the hesitations and ran. If I wanted to investigate this murder, I must start where it all started. Where she fell from. From the rooftop.

I brushed shoulders with students as I rushed my way upstairs. They shot me a glace and some even attempted to greet me. I would've smiled, and greeted them back. Because that's how pretty girls does. But I'm not in the mood to socialize.

Already in front of the door leading to the rooftop, I stopped to catch my breath. It was a complete silence. Only my breathing could be heard. Slowly, I reached for the knob. Twisted it open. Then the warm summer air blew.

Innocently as it blew up here; innocently-not it witnessed a murder up here.

It looked normal. Nothing was out of place. The worn-out wooden chairs, blackboards, and tables. They were stacked here in a perfectly messy way a utility staff would.

I trudged towards where I remember she was before she fell. I closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. As I opened my eyes, I assumed that this is her perspective of the rooftop. I scanned the place for any CCTV cameras attached, that could be the key to finding the murderer. But to my dismay, none is found.

I closed my eyes, once more.

"What are you doing here, Eury?"

A voice of a woman asked. It was Hermione. I'm pretty sure it was her. Only she's got a low yet sweet feminine voice in this school, nobody else. And I know that she's Bria's best friend, aside from Andrea.

"I was just..."

I didn't know what to answer.

What was I doing again?

Should I tell her that I'm here because I'm investigating the death of her bestfriend?

Should I tell her that I'm here because I want to be more than just a useless beauty?

Should I...

"I..."

She raised her brow at me, waiting for my answer. Then her eyes widened when she realized something.

"Don't tell me..." she trailed off.

"Of course not. Why would I? Bria's my friend too... you know."

Her expression softened and acted idle. She walked beside me and leaned on the diamond mesh wires.

Bria has always been a friend to me... she comforted me in times my sister could have. She's often misunderstood and bullied by some batch mates and a few seniors... but she would always smile after and would always try to understand the motive behind being bullied.

I seriously hated her for that...

How could she see the good in everybody? Or even try?! Can't she understand that some people are just pure evil? Although there is no point in arguing it now... she's gone.

She believed in everyone, and that is one thing you wouldn't be able to take away from her; faith.

The tension between Hermione and I broke when she decided to speak. "I may have known who murdered her..."

I looked at her, disbelief and shock evident in my face.

"You do?!"

"Yeah."

Her laid back attitude never ceased to amaze me. Whenever I would see her and Bria together, she always seemed to be relaxed, like very much relaxed.

"And I may have sensed what you're doing..."

What she said got me confused.

"What do you mean?"

"You're trying to investigate Bria's murder... aren't you?"

I gulped and cleared my throat. Beads of sweat started forming on my temples.

"Yes..."

"I want to help you."

How could she manage to say that with such ease?

"But why?"

And for the first time, I saw a surprised reaction from her.

"What do you mean by that? Of course, she's my best friend. What do you expect me to do? Fake tears and sorrow?"

"That's not what I meant. What I meant was-"

"Are you gonna let me help or what?"

She looked at me in the eye. I nodded.

"Follow me."

She smiled and gladly followed me.