He remembered someone screaming, an inhuman, ear-piercing scream. In a few minutes, the sirens of the ambulance were heard followed by that of a police car. He stood there, watching them carry the lifeless body of Thomas, the guy who called him his friend, in the ambulance. He saw his left hand, clenched in a fist so tight that his knuckles had turned as white as camphor. His face, splattered with blood, still had an expression, an expression of pure horror. His right hand had a shining metal tube. A gun, it was a gun. Then, the stretcher was shoved in to the ambulance and the door of the ambulance was soon closed. The police had stood there investigating the crowd formed around the car when the ambulance left. He was pushed to a side by a big man trying to get a better view of the lifeless body that had fallen out of the car. No one seemed to notice the blood on his shirt, after all, he was the one Thomas had fallen on. He hadn't caught him, he hadn't mocked him for losing his balance and Thomas hadn't laughed at himself for being clumsy either.

A police officer tried to talk to him but he didn't utter a single word. He just stood there, gaping at the sight before him. He didn't know how much time had passed. Minutes? Hours? Years? It seemed like an eon.

"Mister? Mister? Please we need your help. Step aside."

Michael finally looked up. It finally dawned on him. Someone had died and he had been the first person to find the body. The officer asked him for his statement and he gave a really short account for what had happened and what he had seen. No gunshots heard and no man seen near the car.

"Looks like we've got another suicide case. The government really should take a notice and try to help the youth. Thanks young lad. You may go now." The officer went back to the group that stood around the car.

Suicide? Suicide! No that couldn't be.

He, with the speed of a garden snail, walked towards Mr. Dixon's car. His head trapped in a whirlwind of thoughts, thoughts he himself couldn't understand just now. Thomas. Dead. Suicide. No! He started the engine and flew out of the parking lot. For someone else standing in the street, it would've been obvious that the car was not going to stop anytime soon. But it did. It screeched to a halt in front of his house. Parking the car, he tiptoed upstairs, to his room and bolted the door.

Stripping off his clothes, he turned on the shower, the water as hot as the sand in Sahara, and stood under it. After a minute, he changed the water's temperature to that of the water of Arctic Ocean. In the numb coldness, he felt something hot running down his cheeks.

Thomas. Had. Killed. Himself.

After standing under the painful shower for another eon, he changed into his nightshirt and went to his bed. His mind still not accepting what had happened, he slowly drifted into a dreamless slumber.

The next morning he was woken up by Jason and Alex. He couldn't quite figure out why they were here the moment he opened his eyes but in a flash, memories of last night came back to him.

"Morning mate." Alex tried to smile, a really really bad try.
Michael didn't answer. He got up quickly from his bed and turned on the shower. After exactly seven minutes, he was standing there completely dressed.

"We are not going to school." Alex stated.
"Why?" Michael mouthed.
"Don't pretend like you don't know why. I know you, I know what happened and that's why, you are not going to school." Alex said, stepping forward.
"I am fine. I'll not take a day off." Michael glared at Alex.
"Fine mate. As you wish, we'll be, as always, very late though." Jason stepped in front of Michael sensing the tension building in between him and Alex.

Surprisingly, they were on time. No, they were not, the first class was cancelled. There was an assembly in the auditorium and the trio was rushed into it by a teacher they bumped into at the entrance corridor.

"... never know what's hidden behind the charming smile of young people. We are starting a mental health support program in our school. I hope no student of our school feels that he's alone. We stand together to fight suicidal thoughts. May his soul rest in peace!" The principal ended his speech. Where everyone applauded, Jason and Alex just snorted.

Alex patted Michael's back and left him without uttering a single word. Not that Michael expected any, he knew Alex well enough, well but not quite enough. Jason left him with a few less words than Michael had expected from him, just a 'goodbye' followed by a 'see you soon'.

It was Mr. Antonio's lecture now. They had to submit their project today. The project Thomas had made with him.
He entered the classroom without lifting his head and sat on his corner seat. No one dared sit near him and their was an empty chair beside him. The chair Thomas would be sitting on, telling him how happy he and his mom was now after his father was no more around them.
After a few seconds, he started paying attention to what everyone was whispering about.

'I heard his parents were abusive.'

'They probably never gave him enough attention.'

'Maybe someone broke his heart too.'

'His financial state didn't look really good either.'

'I saw him crying in the lockers' room once. Should've tried to help.'

'He didn't have any friends.'

'Nothing can justify the fact that suicide is cowardice and hey, he did have a friend, I saw him hanging out a lot with...' His voice trailed off when he saw Michael's tall figure towering over him. His fists were clenched, clenched so hard that it seemed that blood never happened to pass through his knuckles.

"Michael. I'm sorry.' The boy's voice was shaking. Every head turned around in their direction. They all had gossiped about Thomas' death like it was another celebrity affair and each and every one of them deserved a death-glare from Michael.
Everyone waited. He didn't snap. He didn't move an inch towards anyone. His fists opened slowly and he left the class. Alex was already standing outside the classroom.

"You took longer than I expected." Alex, with a lot of effort, managed a small smile. He had been standing there, waiting for Michael. He knew he'd come but Michael didn't expect him to be there.

"You were right, I should take the day off." Michael couldn't return that smile.
"Correction: We should take the day off." Alex nodded and pulled Michael in a bone-crushing hug. He was not as tall as Michael but he had a lot more muscle. Michael freed him from his strong grip and walked out of the corridor. Alex silently followed.

Just before they were to leave for the parking lot, a very familiar figure turned from the corner. Elise Woods. Michael would've thought of running in the opposite direction by the way she was running towards them but the situation didn't allow him to move. The next moment, Michael was holding Elise hand which was just inches away from his cheek. She had tried to slap him but his reflexes were faster than her hand, legs and everything else she had on her body.
"YOU BASTARD! I was intoxicated last night!" Elise shouted at him.
"I know." Michael's calm reply riled her up a little more than she already was.
"You made me drink last night! I don't remember a thing!" Elise had the collar of his shirt in her free hand now, the other still struggling to free itself from his grip.
"I didn't." Michael let go of her hand.
"Leave him. I remember everything that happened and I'll tell you, later. But leave us alone." Alex politely told her to leave.
"No I can't believe this! You..." She was cut off by Alex's glare.
"I said, leave us alone!" Alex said in a commanding tone and she gaped at him. The next thing that happened caught Michael by surprise, she pulled him to her level and said, "We will talk about this!" She left fuming and shooting another deathly glare at him.

"Hmm I see. She listens to you." Michael commented. Alex opened his mouth and closed it again. A smirk formed on his face as he said, "Yes of course, she is very obedient." Michael shrugged his shoulders and moved towards the parking lot.

Alex's car stopped in front of a familiar house. It took Michael a moment to realise that they had stopped in front of Thomas' house. He glanced at Alex who was already getting out of his car.
"Wait!" Michael shouted making Alex fall back in his seat.
"Yes?" He turned his head, an eyebrow raised.
"Why?" Michael's voice and expression was as soft as it could get, which was still like a limestone.
"Because it's what we should do now." Saying this Alex moved out of his car and Michael followed him till they were on the doorstep.

Opposite of what they'd expected, there was not a single soul in the house except Mrs. Simpson. She was sitting on the floor with pictures, drawings and pretty much everything that belonged to Thomas. Her eyes were swollen and her hair unkept. She didn't notice the two boys until they were almost sitting next to her.

"Michael?" When she'd processed that there were people in her house, she spoke.
"Yes ma'am." Michael's voice sounded a little weak.
She hugged him and started sobbing uncontrollably. Alex managed to find a glass of water and offer it to her, which she declined. They both sat staring at the woman in front of them. She was charming, her eyes were exactly like that of Thomas and even in her miserable state, she managed to looked pretty.
"He told me about you." Mrs. Simpson lifted her head and again started crying. Michael noticed Alex, he had flinched as she started to cry, his little finger twitched and his face was more distressed than ever.
Alex and Michael tried their best helping the woman. After about an hour, she had stopped crying and had accepted the glass of water Alex kept offering her. They talked a little about Thomas with her breaking down every once in a while. Opposite of what Michael had expected, Alex seemed more affected by the crying of his mother.

"His funeral, I haven't arranged that yet, I can't. You see, he didn't have any friends here, except you, of course." She said, pointing at Michael, "I can't believe this..." And she told them again and again about her disbelief that Thomas had really died.
"No, I know. He will never hug me, or make tea for me, or even walk in from that door but I can't believe that..." and when Michael thought that she'll again say something like 'he's dead', she said something else, something Michael hadn't thought about, "that someone killed my baby. He was as harmless as an ant. Why would anyone shoot him in the head? Why?" And she again broke down.

Thomas was happy. He had told him that the day he died. He had no girls to worry about. He had a friend. He had his mother with him and his father out of sight. He was anxious before but never depressed. Not when everything was starting to get better. He had no reason to kill himself.

Michael then thought of what he had seen the night before. The petrified look on his face, his clenched fist. He had went to get his mobile from his car, not to kill himself. He hadn't killed himself; he had been killed.

"But that's impossible!" Michael accidentally voiced out his thoughts. Mrs. Simpson didn't pay him any attention but Alex was close to him asking what had happened.

"It wasn't a suicide." Michael whispered.
"It was. That's what the police and the doctors tell." Alex whispered back.
"I was there, Alex. I saw it. I saw it all. I'm more than sure that he didn't kill himself." He said in a low, intimidating tone.
"But..." Alex's voice trailed off when he saw the look in Michael's burning amber eyes. He was sure. Alex trusted him.
"I trust you." Alex raised his voice such that it was not a whisper anymore.
"Listen, I don't know anyone who would have tried to kill him. Someone killed him and then had the audacity to make it look like a suicide." If Alex had a doubt, it would've been cleared by now. Michael could kill someone right now, not someone, it had to be the person he was talking about.

"What can you even do about it?" Alex asked him, not a very wise action from Alexander the wise.
"Ask me what I can not do." Michael could knock someone out with his voice but it wasn't someone now, it was Alex.
"Yes of course. Mrs. Simpson, I'm sure we can arrange Thomas' funeral. Please let us help you." Alex ignored Michael which infuriated him to some extent but was quickly back when Mrs. Simpson accepted their offer and gave them the address of the hospital where Thomas' body was.

It was 12:30 pm when they'd left Thomas' house. Alex arranged a funeral director and paid the funeral costs. Thomas was to be buried the next day at 12:00 pm. They went back to inform Mrs. Simpson about this. The rest of the day passed as they moved around the city completing little tasks that Mrs. Simpson couldn't. At around 8 pm, Alex dropped Michael at his place and he marched straight to his room, effectively ignoring the glare of Mrs. Dixon.

He laid down on his bed and, once again, his mind was buzzing with the thoughts of last night and today. When he couldn't stand it, he stood under the cold shower and again felt the warm water on his cheeks. He slept as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Jason was already standing outside, wearing a white shirt with a black tie, when Michael in his black coat and white shirt stepped out of his house.
They both nodded at each other and went straight to the funeral home. As he entered, he saw Thomas' dead body lain in his plain white coffin and his mother sobbing beside it. Everything in the hall was just a blur, the only thing Michael's eyes focused on were Thomas' face, his dead embalmed face. The expression of horror was still there, not as evident as it was before, but still there. No colour in any visible part of his body and his fist, his fist still clenched. The other hand was loose and rested on his chest. He moved closer to get a better look at him. The thought of him opening his one eye, grinning at Michael, and telling him this was his best prank ever sounded too ridiculous but he secretly wished it to be true.

He felt someone squeeze his shoulder and he didn't have to turn to know that it was Alex. They walked away and sat in the second row, the first row occupied only by Mrs. Simpson.
The pastor entered the hall and after a few minutes of speech, requested everyone to be silent for the prayer. Some people even kneeled down for it but the trio sat there, as stiff as a rock. At the end of the very short service, everyone stood up and half of them walked towards the cemetery where the coffin was to be lowered. The trio took one last glance at Thomas before the coffin was closed and carried by a few men.

When the prayer at the grave ended and the coffin was lowered into the ground, Mrs. Simpson gave a muffled cry and started sobbing into a girl's shoulder. It took them a minute to realise that the girl in the dark blue skirt was none other than Elise Woods. They stared at the crying woman or maybe at the girl standing beside her till Mrs. Simpson stopped and thanked the young lady. When Elise's eyes met Michael's, he saw not the anger he had expected but empathy and it didn't look anywhere close to fake. She slowly moved towards him and hugged him for a complete minute.
"I'm sorry." Uttering this to Michael, she ignored Jason and Alex and left the cemetery. Michael had a hard time processing this and the last sight he had of Thomas helped him a lot to cope with the shock Miss Elise had just gave him.

As expected, Alex had already told Jason about what Michael had said to him the day before. They stopped at a small restaurant to eat and Jason finally asked Michael if he was really sure about the conspiracy theory he had in his mind.
"Y-e-s." He replied.
"On a very serious note, what are you going to do?" Jason asked.
"Find that murderer and kill him with my bare hands." Michael replied in the same low tone.
"And how will we find him?" Alex snapped.
"We? I didn't know you were eager to help." Michael raised his left eyebrow.
"I'm always in to help you, love." Jason said looking at his sandwich as if he was talking to him.
"Well I don't need to tell you that I'm in, right?" Alex smirked.
"Guys. This is not an evil prank we're planning.  I'm serious about it." Michael pulled his hands off the table and on his thighs.
"So am I." They spoke in unison.
Michael's expression changed a bit, maybe it was a quarter smile, a smile anyways.
"I'm sure you know where we're going to start this?" Michael probably didn't want to make this statement interrogative but it did anyways.
"Yes of course." They replied in unison.
The trio left the restaurant and Jason dropped Michael to the workshop he worked at.

Michael hadn't explained it all. Heck, he hadn't given any explanation to them. They just blindly trusted him.
He knew he was right. The last look at Thomas had confirmed it.

The last look at Thomas. He was thinking about it again in the shower.
"Is that how you punch, tinker-bell?" The memory brought a smile on his face. The last look at Thomas. Again, without realising, he had started feeling the warm water on his face but since he had turned off the shower, he had to accept that he had cried. He furiously rubbed the tears away.
He couldn't waste his time crying.

He had much more to do.

A lot of things to do.

                                           *********
A/N
So what do you guys think? Was it really a murder or is our dear Mikey imagining things?
Comment what you think and don't forget to vote and share
P.S I'm kinda sorry for not posting an author's note earlier..