A Murder of Crows

She danced with such grace on the frozen lake. Her performance always managed to enrapture the entire town, myself included. A peaceful smile decorated her beak without fail. I was envious.

I was a small, awkward crow, overlooked by all the same people who adored her. I couldn't skate like she had, nor match her smile. She was a swan in a crow's nest, my family without blood. I loved her, but could never compete.

She had just gotten accepted to some special program, on her way to the Olympics as soon as she received her diploma and leave everyone in this stifling town in her dirty, slushy wake. She would never leave our sector. She was found splayed in snow, blood caught her like angels wings. I was fourteen, she was nearly eighteen.

Everyday for a month we would pass by the little area where it seemed like her blood had stained, lingered, until we finally moved. In our new home, I had hopes of becoming my own person, of finally being seen when we never brought her up again and the seats I reserved for my parents were finally filled at every show of mine.

My carefully accrued confidence was yanked away when he was brought into our home - my home. Once again, I was traded for another idol, another elegant swan. I faded into the backdrop, I stopped reserving seats and finally stopped taking part in my 'hobbies'.

No one ever found out what happened to my sister, and I couldn't leave it alone. Officially, it was an accident. She slipped on ice, never to stand again. It never made sense to me. Between crowded shoulders I saw her snapped nose, the fear etched forever into her porcelain eyes.

It was no accident.

With no one watching anymore, I graduated high school, community college, an esteemed university! For years I worked as a street cop before finally achieving my dream position - homicide detective. I saw criminal after criminal locked up, thrown away to rot in jail.

I imagined being the one to finally catch her reaper, able to prove to everyone that she wasn't the only useful one. I could do it.

Which is how I ended up getting involved with a group of wannabe detectives. Some of her old friends, among other discardables, had caught wind of what I was doing. They wanted in, and they had exactly what I needed.

Her best friend was the first to drag me in. Mina is a small dove who came from the richest family in town. Her and my sister were best friends for as long as I could remember. I've always disliked her, how close she was with my sister and how absolutely spoiled she was. The only reason she managed to graduate was my sister, who did her best to help Mina study but ultimately let her cheat. Even in death, Mina profited off my sister. Everyone pitied her, how she never recovered being the one to find my sister's body. Now all she does is cry about losing her best friend and drink, drink, drink...

The very day I moved into my grandma's house (if I can even say that, it was supposed to be my sister's, she'd started moving in just before she died), Mina showed up and started sobbing into my arms. Somehow, she found me and begged to let her help solve my sister's murder. I begrudgingly agreed, she would know better than anyone what my sister was up to.

Then came Michael, my sister's first and last boyfriend that I know of. I hate him. He and my sister were such a picture perfect couple. Beautiful, disgustingly so. Two elegant swans, matching their outfits when they would skate together. The cliche high school sweethearts, I'm sure if things had turned out... differently, they would have ended up together with 2.5 kids and a white picket fence. 2 am, the day I moved back to town, Mina showed with Michael in tow. She drunkenly cheered about finding out who killed my sister, somehow simultaneously crying. Michael had an odd look on his face throughout the exchange, I couldn't place what it meant. They stayed for about twenty minutes before she passed out with Michael apologizing profusely for her.

Next up was... Lisa. I never felt the need to make friends, never understood the reasoning behind friendship, for myself at least. I don't like people, nor do I want help. I make my own way in this world. It's easier. If I were to ever call someone my friend, I would hesitantly say Lisa is the only one I ever made. She lived two houses down from me before we moved. My parents pitied her family, so I was forced to go over to her house frequently and play with her. Lisa had 10 siblings and it was always loud or generally chaotic at her house, siblings always fighting over something. They were poor, obviously since they lived on our dead end street. Lisa liked my sister more than me, always asking me what she was up to and if she was home.

In middle school, Lisa somehow befriended the popular kids. She stopped being my friend. While she didn't bully me like her new group, she didn't try to stop them either. She just stood, idly by, watching me get bullied. Sometimes she laughed, but mostly she acted as if I didn't exist.

I hadn't seen her in years, let alone interacted with or thought of her. Yet somehow, when I showed up in town, she quickly found her way to my doorstep. She was softer than I remembered, eyes kind and almost happy to see me. I couldn't look directly into her eyes. We stood at my door for a few minutes, her trying to engage with me and myself awkwardly replying. She asked what brought me back to town, and I answered honestly.

"My sister."

"Oh... I'm sorry about her, by the way. I never got to tell you." Silence. "I went to her funeral, after it happened. I tried to find you."

"I didn't go."

"I wouldn't think so. Too loud and busy for you. I still looked though, and then you moved."

"Yeah."

It was quiet, she struggled to find something to talk about.

"How are you? And the rest of your family?"

"My parents are dead," I stated plainly. I didn't try to pretend, fake devastation, or anything. She knew me, she knew them, she knew they never cared about me, nor I them.

She apologized anyway. "I'm sorry. Is that how you got the house then? Why you came back?"

I nod.

"Well... I'm glad you're back. I missed you..." As she trailed off, seeming to think about other things to say, I interrupted anything she could continue with.

"I'm trying to find who killed my sister," I blurted. I couldn't even stop myself. This was a secret project, something I would investigate alone as to not scare the killer into hiding.

"What...?"

"I'm investigating her death. Mina showed up last week and demanded to let her help. She brought Michael and now we're all a- detective group, she called it. I've already started looking into it, I have some suspects and- and Mina brought over a pin board, and a white board. They're in my living room, we've been using them to collect clues, evidence." At some point I found myself bringing Lisa inside, where papers sprawled out on the floor with red string and a box of thumbtacks. It's cluttered, the entire house is, but it's how I do my best work.

I sat on the floor and explained everything I knew so far, in detail. I grabbed evidence, photos, papers as I spoke. I think it was the longest I had ever spoken to her, anyone. She sat on a pillow across from me, patiently listening and nodding along. It was dark by the time I was done speaking, theorizing.

She asked if I was hungry. We went to a diner nearby, where she apparently worked. We parted ways after that, but the very next day she was back and inviting me to the library. Day after day we would go somewhere, when she was free from work, and investigate. Days, weeks, months, and then it was coming on a year of fruitless investigating. I found out Mina and Michael were married, which shouldn't have surprised me as much as it did. Lisa told me about her own history of love and heartbreak, but current singleness. I started work at the local police station soon after moving, which left me with plenty of time and money to spend all day focusing on my sister's death.

Then the last person in my ragtag detective agency joined. My little brother.

He had moved in with my only living grandparent and my aunt after our parents death. I never visited. We weren't close. I hardly even knew him, considering as soon as I graduated high school I was off to college and the police academy. My grandpa seems to not be one for giving children attention, and my aunt spent all her time gambling, which left my brother to do whatever he wanted... Which was to just wander around the streets and find stray animals, as well as never attend school. Child services got involved and somehow found me. I felt so close to finding who killed my sister, when suddenly this thirteen year old child was dropped off at my doorstep for me to take care of.

I had new responsibilities, to my distain. I had to feed and dress my brother, send him to school, make sure he did his schoolwork... Then when he refused, I had to figure out how to come to an agreement with him. I wasn't very discreet about what I was doing, and he got curious. So in return for his attendance in school, I showed him what I did as a detective. He liked horror, something I assume he found when he wasn't being watched over, and found everything extremely interesting.

Sometimes he would just ramble off people that could be suspects, which was mainly just people he didn't like. His teacher, the other kids in class, our aunt, but then he added in Michael and Mina. While I didn't personally like either of them, I didn't know what about the two could have made him think they would do it.

"Well, Mrs. Mina seems too sad. Like... I dunno, she's not really sad. And don't the killers normally try to get really involved? Even by like, trying to help investigate so they can mess with evidence?" He mumbled, too busy doodling at the kitchen table to look up at me. He had a point.

"Normally, but she would've gotten away with it if she hadn't said anything. She thinks this is all her idea, not mine, so why dig up an old case and keep crying about it?"

He just shrugged. "Isn't Mr. Michael big sisters ex boyfriend? Why would he marry her best friend? When did they get married? And start dating too. Maybe he was cheating on her?"

I pause. I had seen this type of thing before, the family and loved ones of victims getting close, seeking support from one another and falling in love. It was almost normal. "That's a thought. What're you working on over there anyway?" I go over and lean over his shoulder.

"My project for art class. We're supposed to make a family portrait for our art book." It was a drawing of me, him and Lisa. Mina and Michael were there too, off to the side. In the very corner was a white swan.

"It's great," I said, messing up his dark hair.

I kept his words in my head as I continued our investigation. When did they start dating? After a day, I found their marriage certificate, which listed as exactly a year after my sister's death. A chill went down my spine as I privately made my friends my new prime suspects.

Interacting with the rest of the detective agency was difficult for the rest of the week, but I believe I handled everything appropriately.

"Hey, we have any new evidence?" Michael asked as he and Mina entered. Mina had been drinking less, but that didn't stop her from shouting an excited greeting at the top of her lungs.

"No, but I have to work really early so I'm going to bed," I quickly replied, shutting the book I was reading loudly as I stood. The two stared at me with concern for a moment before saying goodnight. I heard them murmuring to each other as I went to my bedroom, then the front door squealed open and shut.

I figured I would need more information from the both of them about... that day, and I knew I had to face them eventually. I let off a long breath before I saw them next.

"Did you see her talking with anyone... unusual that day?" I asked, as casual as possible while we were having a group research session.

Mina looked up at me before returning to her reading. "Not that I can remember. Honestly, she didn't really talk to anyone that day... Just me, Michael and a few other cheerleaders. We had practice that day though, everyone was there." I heard this same version of events time and time again.

"What about you, Michael? You had some friends on the football team, right?"

There was a small pause before he answered. "Yeah, I was mainly hanging out with some guys in the gym and locker room."

I interviewed some of the football players of the time. They all said they only saw him talking in the locker room to one other player, a large hawk named Troy. Troy, however, claimed he didn't even really know Michael or my sister.

"One of the football players is in jail now for assault. Was anyone missing from practice?" I glanced up to see another odd expression on Michael's face, similar to the one he wore when I'd first seen him again. It almost seemed... pained?

"I don't think so, I honestly can't remember very well."

Mina quickly butt in. "No, no one was missing. I remember very clearly. We were just outside the gym, but I could hear the couch doing the role call for the football team. Everyone was there and nobody left during practice. I don't think any of them could have done this and gotten away with it."

This piqued my interest. The next week was parent-teacher conferences, and I used this opportunity to my advantage. My brother was going to the same high school my sister and I attended, so I had a chance to look at the records for any missing students. To see if they were telling the truth.

I had to actually attend the conference and see all my brothers teachers first. Luckily Lisa wasn't working so she could watch him for the night, and I could investigate all on my own. I arrived early and breezed through the first teachers, who all said similar things.

"So lovely to meet you, Ms. Rivers, your son is-"

"He's not my son."

"Hello, you must be-"

"He's my brother."

"He was such a handful to start-"

"But now he's such a perfect student, quiet and smart!"

Then I came to the last teacher, Mrs. Sparrow, his art teacher. I had her for a year when I was younger, and she seemed to have remembered.

"You know, he's just like you at that age. Watchful, gifted. Maybe art wasn't your favorite, but he's so good..." She carried on, telling me just what she had about my sister when I was in school. Gifted, meant for bigger things and how I should support him in his interests. It was the longest meeting of the night. I left as soon as a lull came into the conversation, and made my way to the office. The area was thankfully empty, with no cameras in sight. Relief flooded me as I got to work, fingers flying through the files. Was this finally my break? Would this be the nail in the coffin? Could I bury my sister, forever?

My breath caught.

Extra curricular attendance sheets for the day my sister died. I had it.

Voices started echoing down the hallway, so I shoved the folder into my laptop bag and put everything back in it's place. As the small group of people rounded the corner, I was taking a sip from the water fountain. I didn't see who the people were until I turned to start walking in the direction they had come from, towards one of the exits, and there was Troy. He was a teacher now.

His glanced to me before quickly glancing away. Then he paused.

"I'll catch up in a second, I just saw someone I need to talk to," he said to the group. They all laughed and went on, while we stayed feet away in the hallway. Adrenaline pumped through my veins. No cameras.

I took a small step away. "Sorry, I was just leaving."

He quickly turned around and stepped towards me, reaching out. "Wait, wait!" I pulled out pepper spray, sending burning fizz into his eyes. He yelled out in surprise and pain as I ran away.

"Shit, shit! Ow, wait! I lied! I know Michael!" Troy was stumbling towards the water fountain, trying to wash away the spray. I had a confession, everything was falling into place, but something felt wrong. I stood near the doors, waiting for Troy to shut the water off and continue talking.

It took about twenty minutes for him to get it out as best he could. I ended up helping him over to a nearby bathroom before running to get him some milk for the cafeteria. We sat down together, just outside the bathroom and up against a wall with a corkboard of different student activities.

"So... The whole truth now."

Troy gave a small nod. "The whole truth. Me and Michael-"

"Michael and I," I corrected.

"I'm not an English teacher," he said with a weak, reddened glare. "Me and Michael weren't really friends. We knew each other, saw each other in passing, went to the same parties... and turns out have- similar interests. He-"

"What interests?" I once again interrupted. Christ, I don't need an entire sob story.

"I was about to say if you'll sit still and listen. He came onto me at one of those parties and we started... Fooling around in secret. Your sister knew," he said quickly when he saw me starting to open my mouth again. "We had a little arrangement. Michael and her pretend to date, so no one would question me and Michael or, uh, her and Mina."

My sister and Mina...? This just threw the entire investigation upside-down. I stood up as he kept talking.

"That day me and Michael were in the locker room," he called after me, still sat on the cold tile. "None of us know who killed your sister, but I'm really sorry."

He said more things, but I couldn't hear. Everything was being reprocessed, all my memories, all the interactions. I wandered around the empty school, lost in thought. Somehow, I found my way towards the old abandoned school, where my music room was.

Funding for the school was low, and black mold had spread through this building like wildfire. It was the last remanent of the original school, so they couldn't just tear it down. We changed music rooms the year my sister died, but I found myself going back every so often when my parents missed my recitals.

I pushed open the rotten door and stepped in. There was some graffiti, but it was surprisingly clean for being abandoned this long. My feet knew every step to my little area... I moved a bookshelf from the door way, my extra measure to keep unwanted visitors away.

Everything was exactly as it was the day...

My eyes fell to a dirty box I'd hidden away beneath some rubble. I knew every single item in the box, but I opened it anyway.

A picture of my sister.

My little black gloves.

My navy blue dress shirt.

A handkerchief.

Finally, I reached in and pulled out the last item...

A hammer.

Everything, even the inside of the box, had grimy, crusty, rust red painted over it.

Silvia's beautiful, flawless blood.

I collapsed to my knees, the box and it's contents spilling across the dust ridden floor. My eyes were wide, dirty hands slapping over my mouth as memories flooded my head.

No... No, no no no, I couldn't have!

I could feel her touch slowly caress my throat as I bit back a gag.