Money is the root of all evil. This is my favourite saying. My story just proves this. ‘Morning Felicity De La!’ I thought to myself when I just awoke this morning. I got up, brushed my teeth, bathed, then put on a dash of makeup. While I was bathing, I realized I had a bullet inside my skin. I quickly wore my clothes and drove to my doctor. He confirmed that it was indeed a bullet and that I should have been dead. I was shocked! Who would want to kill a dress designer who was nobody special..yet? The doctor and I decided to do a medical investigation to see if any of my organs were affected by the impact of the bullet. My doctor later came out saying that I had no pulse, no heartbeat, nothing. I was dead, yet I could walk, talk, sleep, eat, and other people could see me. I quickly rushed home after thanking my doctor. I decided to create a dress inspired by death. With long black chiffon sleeves, a V-neck, and pitch-black cloth, it represented death, at her worst.
Just then a knife whooshed past me, hitting the mannequin beside me. I quickly hid behind my cupboard and waited till the coast was clear. The mystery assassin, dressed in black, came inside my room. The assassin pushed the cupboard pressing me to the wall. I was crushed. Then the assassin picked up the knife and stabbed me with it in the heart. I thought I was gone, but then I realized I was already dead. Ignoring my pain, I snatched the assassin's knife and stabbed the assassin with it. The assassin, realizing defeat, retreated. I sat on the floor hugging my knees, shocked, ‘Did I just harm a person? Will the police come to arrest me? Why does someone want to kill me?’ After these thoughts buzzed through my head, I decided to clean my wounds. It had been an hour and I guessed my wounds would have clotted by now. But… lo, my wounds were gone, leaving no scar behind! I came to the conclusion that I could be harmed but not killed.
I resolved to clear my mind and take this matter of finding my killer into my own hands. I cast a quick glance around my room looking for clues. I found a white paper with a green lip stain and a white cross on it. It was not mine. Heck, I didn’t own any lipstick, much less a green one. I rushed out of my room and went to maisonette De La where Jacqueline De La, my twin sister, who was my closest friend, and a Gendarmerie activist (a military force active within civilians) currently resides. Once I arrived there, she made me a glass of mint mojito, which I absolutely adored. I recounted my story to her, making her fall off her chair, literally. I also asked her for some help in tracking my killer by showing her the paper. After searching for a really short time on her police computer in her bureau, she found the gang the assassin belonged to. It was the gang de tueurs.
I nearly fainted hearing their name. Gang de Tueurs was the ultimate assassin gang, but they were demolished by the Le Paris Government. After searching for a few more minutes, she said there was another group claiming to be the Gang de Tuers living in an abandoned building. I decided to go prepared. I brought out my sling and created a few papier-mâché balls to bonk the Tuers in the head. En route to the building, I had a suspicion that it was my riche enemy designer/stinky spoiled brat, Adèle Du Poudré who was trying to kill me. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a bomb dropped on me. I thought I was gone, but then I realized I couldn’t die. I quickly ran away from the bomb, ignoring my injuries. They soon healed up after a few minutes. I had now officially found the suspect. I decided to switch my destination and instead have a little rendezvous with her father. I messaged her father who just happened to be my uncle.
“Oncle Raphaël, how have you been?” I asked. “I have been in good health, dear niece,” he replied. Then I went straight to business and told him everything except the fact that I could not die. After I finished, he decided to take a look to see if the culprit was Adèle. After thanking him for taking these drastic measures, I decided to meet Adèle and ask why she did all this. Just when I was about to, I saw Oncle Raphaël talking to a man dressed in black. The man looked like the assassin. To listen to what they were talking about, I went towards them and started recording them for evidence as it looked like shady business. “Why is that stupid girl still alive? I told you to drop a bomb on her,” he asked the assassin. “She somehow managed to survive. Don’t worry, master. I will kill her sooner or later,” replied the assassin. “Well, do it quickly. She is suspicious and bold enough to investigate,” he ordered angrily. The assassin jumped to obey.
“Once that girl is dead, my Adèle will win over the fashion industry and we will be the richest people on the Earth. Adèle has been losing too many times because of that girl. Like father, like daughter. Her dad used to win all the time,” he muttered. I took this evidence to the police and they put Oncle Raphaël in jail along with the assassin who in fact was an original member of the gang du tueur. Adèle disappeared once she found out that her father was caught. Was she part of the plot? That I may never know. After all this drama, I went back to creating wonderful dresses and my ability remained a secret. I made sure that high-quality dresses meant Felicity De La from my brand Chic De La. This is my story with a pretty good ending because I always remembered, Money is the root of all evil.
Written by:
Ananya Ray
