The Sins of Alinski ✓

10 | yes, i did nothing

Thomas' words echoed in her head, rebounding off her skull and freezing like the arctic winds.

His once familiar doe-like eyes seemed to hide something. The irises dilating with each brush of magnolia scented air. Black moles dotted his ceramic skin like a Christmas pudding. Freckles blossomed on his jawline and showed off whenever the sun kissed its edges, making his features sharp as ever. He grew. They grew.

"We have little time, Kyle, so tell me what you did to Jane. My cousin, Jane" She thought she'd never get the answer, until today. Maybe she could even ask him about her mother. The thought of killing off Jane Lewis was a mistake. The thought was a mistake. It was a sin.

Because no one could ever kill someone like her, someone like Jane. With her lapislazuli, eyes lined with sharp-tipped eyeliners and Schiaparelli dresses. She was the queen of their youth. Queen of them, but only she wasn't anymore. And she loved Kyle Harriet, the son of a constable, with all her heart. Gladys assumed that she'd even trade her stilettos with her if she promised to have a Kyle-and-Jane time together, alone.

"Yes. I did not kill Jane. I would never, you've got whatever Thomas said to you. But all of that is a lie. You should know Gladys. He's the liar here-"

Gladys held up her hand, and Kyle stopped, his face falling like a deflated balloon.

"What did you do to Jane" Gladys only wanted to hear what he did. Nothing else had importance now.

"I found her body first. Yes, I did nothing. I went over to see her face down on the grass. There was this machete struck right through her... and I neared and then suddenly there was this blood.... fresh blood everywhere and I stepped on it and my boots got soaked. And then Jane moved her hand. I was frightened and I... accidentally ran to the room where your mam was sleeping. I washed the blood in the toilet and..."

Kyle felt like a Stag that got its horns stuck in a tree bark. Unable to pull out. Stuck where he was. Now, he couldn't pull back his words, the testimony had flowed wistfully out of his mouth.

"And? What happened then?" Gladys almost rattled the iron bars with her fury. Kyle stepped back, fearing that she'd come for his neck again. She couldn't reach him. She was a hungry human who got caged from reaching the truth long ago, long before YmaAlinski, deceased, and long before anyone had the right to speak publicly.

"Speak, Kyle. Speak" She screamed, knuckles going white from her tightening grip. Kyle winced, locks of his soft brown hair falling over his forehead. The cicadas went silent.

Prison workers rushed towards cell number 498, their heavy work boots quaking the pebbles as they neared Gladys.

"What happened. We heard noises" asked a woman with hair as bright as a wildfire. Mixed goodness of orange and ochre. The two work ladies smelled of cement and early morning tea.

"She.. just went... hyperactive," Kyle explained, hesitating to look at Gladys. She had her ebony locks parted by the wind on both sides. Eyes bloodshot and forehead smeared with sweat.

To Kyle, she looked like she needed therapy, a physiatrist. She needed treatment because she had gone mental. They trapped her among the inky vines, strangling her to a stage where she turned blue from head to toe. Gladys Alinski was dead. Even the teal veins throbbing throughout her body agreed. She was dead long before any of this happened.

But Kyle wasn't keen on leaving his best friend without a future promise, which he'd hopefully keep. He turned to the workers and requested, "Give us a minute"

The ladies frowned as they shot Gladys one last glance before turning on their heels.

Kyle neared her until they were eye to eye. He could see the picture outside the window now. Molten sunshine poured in like a promising element.