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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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Skylar: Before killing Justice I turn back to her, not surprised at all. Not one bit. “Look Ava, for what it’s worth, Justice doesn’t have a loyal bone in her body. I don’t know why you’re surprised.” She should’ve expected it one day at least so it softens the blow for her. I had no clue when I came back from the Aburi trip and tried to sit by Justice at the cafeteria. Her words that day were as sharp and hurtful as shrapnel shells after an explosion. Of course, this does nothing to assuage Ava. She gets more vexed. “It still doesn’t give her the right to steal my speech from right under my nose,” she mutters and bends down to pick up her torn clear bag that’s got papers bleeding out of it onto the footprint stained white tiles. I almost feel sorry for her. And then she says something I’d never dream she’d ever utter. “That’s why I’m going to get back at her.” I frown and let go of the door. “You’d have to get in
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Ava: After killing JusticeWednesday afternoon brings a barrage of news that floods my phone with so many notifications that I’m forced to keep my phone on silent mode. This morning, someone tagged me in a post on Instagram and the numerous others inevitably woke me up.I thumbed through the pictures and almost grimaced as Justice’s face from our Year Nine graduation stared back at me. We got older as I slid through them. I did this till I had enough of torturing myself and chucked my phone underneath my pillow, ignoring the string of messages popping up like clockwork. I’d been up since four a.m. The soft skin underneath my eyes, the ache in my neck and the pressure behind my eyeballs are screaming at me to catch some sleep.Since I have a penchant for overstressing even the littlest of situations, I’m focusing on the names I’ve scribbled in my notebook. I’ve let that nagging feeling