Confessions of a Bitch

Bones

I’m standing under the shower with my clothes on, shivering not from the cold, but from the repeated sounds of gunshots followed by silence. I turn the water knob to the hottest level, shivering even harder as torrents of scalding water erode my skin.

“Amanda,” I close my eyes and wrap my hands around myself, pretending not to hear anything over the sound of the water hitting the tiles. “Amanda?” A voice yells as vigorous pounds are made on the door. My teeth chatter as I slide down onto the floor beneath me. I was so close to finding out something about Viper, I could almost taste it. It was already too late, to begin with. The deal had been made with Bob and the bullet had now silenced both Alyssa, who was my only hope in finding Victoria, and my dreams of receiving my first clue. “Amanda!” the door shudders as the knocks become even more frequent and harder. “Amanda!” the door bursts open and dad rushes in, closely followed by mum. He yanks the shower door open, turns off the tap and drags me out of the shower, while mum grabs a towel from the rack and throws it over my shoulders. “What happened?” Dad yells, shaking my shoulders vigorously. I don’t reply. Instead, tears continue sliding down my cheeks.

“Amanda,” Mum strokes my hair. “What’s the matter?” Overwhelming need gnaws my bones. I want a hug. I need her arms to wrap themselves around me and tell me everything will be alright. Mum stares at me for a long time before pulling me into her arms. I sob harder, wanting everything to end. For the first time in years, the idea of leaving, changing my identity and starting over, comes to mind. I’ve done it once before and I can easily do it again.

“I want Victoria back,” I say under a fit of tears. “I want her back.”

“The police are going to bring her back.” Dad replies pulling me into his embrace. “Everything will be alright.”

It’s a lie and we both know it. Nothing will be alright. I can still see Alyssa’s corpse on the grass, amongst a field of roses. Her handbag lies on the floor next to her torso, her legs are in an awkward position. She’s stiff, oddly composed. Her eyes are wide open and lips parted, with unsaid words frozen on her tongue.

Over the next few days, the town is ablaze with reports of Alyssa’s disappearance. Some begin questioning the strange events occurring in town. The media is fervent, trying to link the pieces together, starting with Victoria. It’s ironic, how no one thinks of Old Man Black.

My thin wall of privacy is quickly dashed as journalists and cameramen hurry towards my door at certain times during the day and night. Everyone at home is on edge, but things are worse for Victoria’s family. Reports follow them everywhere, asking questions, looking for anything to make headlines.

More missing posters fill the streets, with pictures of Alyssa’s sickening smile, next to Victoria’s innocent brown eyes. Annoyed, I snatch one of Alyssa’s missing posters and store it next to my pocket.

Alyssa is dead, Victoria isn’t.

School is no different. All the year twelve students are called in for an emergency meeting in a designated classroom. I take my place at the back next to some students I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting.