COZBI

0. PROLOGUE

TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of death

...

They say the law is above all when the law is in fact, created by the people. The privileged and the egoistic who gain unreasonable power.

My father, whose life had been taken by racism and discrimination.

My mother, whose life had been taken by a man I know; a man I thought I could trust.

We became friends ever since the day he approached me in high school. He was a cordial man back then, but I suppose it was all just an act.

The high-pitched ring of the doorbell snaps me out of my thoughts. I walk toward it before Felix stops right in front of me, as if preventing me from opening the door.

I brush it off and pick him up with ease, setting him down on the sofa as he looks up at me as if telling me to ignore the three raspy knocks on the door.

I heaved a heavy sigh, unlocking the door and swinging it open, immediately finding Cozbi standing there with his fist still raised. His appearance has not changed since; messy tufts of brown hair that reached his shoulders, bright, hazel eyes, and unwavering bursts of energy that always made him so cheerful.

"Hey, Douglas! How's my best friend?" He asks with a knowing smirk. I let out a shaky breath and pushed Cozbi's smaller frame backward.

"You," I growl. "You killed my mother. And you still come to my house as if nothing happened?"

He tensed, and the atmosphere shifted.

His previous smile faded into a more solemn expression, his brows furrowed, and his lips tightly pressed together. "I'm sorry for your loss, but believe me, I was not thinking–"

"Stop using sympathy to make excuses," I said, cutting him off. "We both know what you did." I glared at him through narrowed eyes.

He looked up at me with teary eyes, returning the stare with a pitiful expression. With no verbal response from Cozbi, I decided to speak up.

"We'll take this to court," I said, keeping eye contact with his glossy orbs and moving backward to shut the door.