Yesterday night, Jackiline (the shortest fifth former) died. Or got killed, I should say. For once, I was practically first to the scene, and I was able to investigate further (to a certain extent).
Once again, the bloody handprint was imprinted on the wall, thick blood trickling down the wall from it. I also picked up the tiniest scrap of a dark navy coloured fabric from the window, which I assume was from the murderer, but-as with most things-there was no way to prove it.
Then I turned my attention to the actual body. Jackiline's strawberry-blond short hair was now as dark red as her lipstick, due to the deep wound. I wanted to both look away, and take a closer look; I did neither. I stared and stared, and eventually noticed a hair that wasn't her length nor colour. When I picked it up, Miss came over and told me to leave so I did. I had no choice.
Later that evening, I took a much closer look at the hair with Gwen. It was a glossy strand of light blond hair, that shimmered as it caught the light. It reminded me of something-someone.
But who?
Before I went to bed, I locked the door and the window. Ava questioned me, which I found suspicious, however it was hot in the room, so maybe I just over thought it.