Anonymous: Before
Today I decided to pay a visit to my therapist. A robust man in his early fifties with neatly cropped black hair, dressed articulately in a dress shirt that smells too much of starch and straightened black trousers. His office is small yet stretched wide with a variety of books. From Charles Dickens to Ernest Hemingway, my eyes skim each cover. His taste bores me.
A small picture of his family—three girls all alike, tall and as slim as their mother—sits on his polished desk facing me. He fingers the frame every time he gets up to see me out the door. Nothing goes unnoticed by me.
Footsteps resonate through the door behind me. It is pushed open, and he steps into the room with enough hauteur to make me scowl. “I didn’t know you were coming in today.” As though to prove a point, his eyes spy the calendar perched on his desk. It reads October 20th, which is a Tuesday, but I&rs
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Ava: After killing JusticeWe all lie at some point in our lives. Some lies are bone-deep and no matter how much we try to escape them, they keep breeding faster than pigs. That’s the kind of lie I sense spilling out of Skylar’s mouth when she tells me she’s at Sean Dabrah’s house. “I’m on my way,” she says over the phone, her voice sounding frantic like she’s been caught robbing a bank.“Sure. Thana and I will just wait at your house,” I reply and wait for a beat. It becomes radio silent on the other end. And then she hangs up. There’s got to be some reasonable explanation as to why a hairy-chested, foul-mouthed man was doing on Skylar’s doorstep. In her house. In our unfortunate situation, it’s dangerous to have someone you can’t trust around you and I don’t care if it’s just a house address. Little things spark up fires, grow bigger into explos
Killing Justice Chapter 19
Ava: After killing JusticeShe’s right, it’s none of our business and definitely not a big deal, but I’m still squeamish about something as little as that. It’s like ever since we found Justice I’ve been scrutinizing everything through a magnifying glass, trying to dissect every information I get my hands on like a toad under a scalpel. As the car bellies out of Silver Rose Street, my mind finally succumbs to the ‘what if’ and ‘maybe’ scenarios that have been keeping me up at night. The only way Justice could’ve afforded to spend time at Circe Creek Hotel was if she had hit the jackpot by winning a lottery or landed her dream job at The Lounge, which wouldn’t happen not in a million years. Justice literally lived to breathe the nonsense spewed by the saleswoman at her favourite shop at the mall, Cherry-on-Top. But there’s a policy all the shops in the estate must follow- never hire a minor e
Killing Justice Chapter 20
Ava: After killing Justice My brain is a murky pool of confusion, riddled with one fat, bold question: What the hell is a box doing in the wall? Whoever preemptively carved a square-sized hole in the wall, took out a brick and replaced it with cardboard, didn’t want anyone to know. Not even the hotel staff who I’m sure is oblivious to the incongruous box in the room. We huddle around the box, our short shadows shrouding it. Now it’s more of a small jewelry box with the telltale signs of someone else’s prying, shown by the silvery long scratches on the latch. “Do you think Justice was trying to open it?” My voice is quiet, tremulous, and unsure. “Maybe.” Skylar sits back on her calves. “The scratches are probably from fixing on the latch.” And because we have no clue what she’s alluding to, she taps her finger on the base where a molten piece is staggered from the rest of the lock’s body. “It most likely broke off a
Killing Justice Chapter 21
Ava: Before killing JusticeAt home, Cece got it into her head that she can somehow convince Justice to come back home by using her YouTube channel. She’s adamant about the idea of Justice leaving home because of Patience, but I’m not quick to point out that Patience and Justice have been at each other’s throats since their benefactor, Grandma Ortega, threatened to cut her aunt from her will.Unfortunately, I’m added into the equation of this new profound video on her channel where she smacks me secretly behind the camera when I don’t quite get enough emotion into the words I’m spewing. “You’ve got to say it like you mean it,” she urges on.Annoyance leaches out of my pores, and I almost snatch her iPad off my bed and hurl it at the wall. Cece is lovable. I’ve always known, but a duo seemed to be the perfect thing for me when Justice was alive. Until Justice bro
Killing Justice Chapter 22
Ava: Before killing Justice The next morning, Victor finally texts me. It’s the kind of morning where the sky is still painted dark-blue, no hint of it shedding its cloak to give way to light and the trees lined underneath are as straight and catatonic as soldiers in alignment. Over the last few hours, I’ve lain awake to the sound of Cece sleeping. For someone so pretty, her snore isn’t. I’ve tried not to think of Dad and Justice stashed in my pile of clothes, faces inches from each other, sun blotting out their secret. So Victor’s text is a candle in the dark. My only hope of solace right now. Are you awake? I note the time it was sent. It’s an hour ago, and dread shoots through me so fast I’m contemplating if he’s awake or not. Yeah, I am. Wanna talk? His response is immediate, as though he’s had trouble peeling his eyes away from his phone, hop
Killing Justice Chapter 23
Ava: Before killing Justice I get depressed the next day and it doesn’t help that the universe has decided to punish me. My cramps are a huge fuck you in the face. Mum comes into my room early in the morning to find me passed out on my bathroom floor, moaning about the pain. I’m not going to school—Mum’s orders. I am to rest under my duvet and let the diclofenac work its magic. My time is spent with Asia on the couch, watching Date Rush and munching on the quiche she and I prepared once the pain subsided. All hopes of confronting my dad are stomped on by his Tuesday patients. They are five in total, . Who would’ve thought? Moving here took many things from us—Mum’s detox sessions at Aunt Julie’s salon, my summers spent idly by the beach, Asia’s women’s club and most of all, it took away dad’s expensive white polished four-square office in downtown Spintex. Out went the office along with his patients, who thought driving up to The Circle
Killing Justice Chapter 24
Ava: Before killing Justice I must’ve fallen asleep because it’s nighttime. The TV is no longer alight with images and a bleak dark screen is what my eyes latch onto. The sitting room is a gauzy orange and the doors and every window are bolted shut. My eyes haven’t fully opened and my senses are tingling with the realization that something or someone is fanning my face with hot breath, or maybe it’s to do with the fact that the fan is turned off and my skin is sticky with sweat. I jerk fully awake and come face to face with my dad hovering over me. His outstretched hand tells me he was about to wake me up. I don’t know if I’m imagining it, but he reeks of cigars. I tell myself he’d never smoke, not because I’m asthmatic, but because it’s just not who he is. Sadly, though, who he is and who people think he is are entirely two different things. “You’re awake.” My dad pats my cheek to make sure. His breath holds a fai
Killing Justice Chapter 25
Ava: Before killing Justice Dread pools in my chest. “How could you? She was my best friend.” The hurt is still fresh but the tears have all but dried up months ago. This confrontation has been a long time coming. If there’s any sign that he caught on to my reference of Justice in the past tense he doesn’t show it or hasn’t noticed. “Ava.” One word, one flimsy toneless mono syllabus that does me in because it’s not one said with sternness telling me I’ve overstepped, that I’m being rude, brutal. It’s filled with something I can’t place my finger on but recognise because it’s the same admission I gaze at every time I look into the mirror. Guilt. Mine wanes away because he’s guilty enough for both of us. He points to one of the high bar stools, and I comply as he swings for another round of his drink and downs it right before my eyes. When he does it again, I make a discordant sound at the back of my throat. “Really,