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
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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,
Killing Justice Chapter 26
Skylar: Before killing Justice I detest the smell of fear and right now more than ever since my skin has started to reek of it. Coach hasn’t let me out of her sight the whole walk to Principal Lancaster’s office. She keeps rambling on about how drugs can affect both my physical and mental health. I want so badly to punch something or else I’ll shout in her face. Doesn’t she think I know all that, that the many rehab pamphlets I stole from the local pharmacy hadn’t spewed out all the reasons I shouldn’t be consuming pills without a prescription? I’ve tried. Only God knows how much I’ve tried to stop, but she keeps coming back. Jasmine won’t go away, dead or alive, she’s a parasite in my brain. My tongue is steely with blood from biting the inside of my cheeks. Better that than denting a hole in one of the lockers. Whenever Jasmine and I fought aggressively as children, my dad always pulled me off her as if I initiated our fight. He told m
Killing Justice Chapter 27
Skylar: Before killing Justice “Morning Lans,” she says. “I’ve brought you a troublemaker.” That’s one way of putting it. She all but dragged me here. Principal Lancaster turns around and regards me with disinterested eyes. He squints through the rays. “Hm. Yes, it seems you have.” I lick my lips and find that they’re as cold as pebbles and rough from chewing at them nervously. I wish I could dissolve into thin air and I don’t know why I feel oddly squeamish even though this isn’t my first rodeo. It’s so uncharacteristic of me because usually when I wind up in trouble, I know I’m guilty. There’s something unsettling about being accused of misconduct you haven’t committed. Coach relays the information of the pills she saw bleeding from the zip on my sports bag. After this, Coach stands to my right waiting or maybe she’s just making sure I don’t suddenly lunge for the door.
Killing Justice Chapter 28
Skylar: Before killing Justice“And I’ll be contacting your father again and this time not by phone since he’s never available. Your grades have taken a nosedive and he hasn’t bothered to show up for any parent-teacher meetings. Why is that?” I hate the way he’s assessing me like a frog placed under a magnifying glass.I bounce up from my seat, ready to leave even though a part of me wants to stay and grovel. “Try email.”I’m out of his office before I hear his reply. Disrespect aside, I was this close to letting the truth unspool. Email? Sure, my dad replies, but it’s akin to reading a message typed out by a robot. I would know since I’ve sent him dozens and never gotten more than he always sends. It’s like he keeps pressing down on Gmail’s suggestions: How are you doing? And Hey, will message you later.I talk to him on t