(Sequel to Two Gangs and a Golden Girl)
***
"If you even think about touching me, I will literally rip off your arm," I growl when Xavier prowls closer. He doesn't stop. His poison green eyes drill into mine.
"I will have you, Marigold, and we will...
And now, I'm standing up for myself. I finally have my chance to get out.
I spot a car stop on the other side of the road and the tinted windows is sign enough that it's my lift. Quickly, I get up and walk over to the dark car. The driver doesn't say anything and I just get in and sit back while he drives me.
With the money I'll make now, I can buy myself a bus ticket to get out of here. I'll go somewhere far away and get myself started. I've always wanted to work at a children's daycare. See if I can spot the scarred little girls with mean brothers and fathers.
Maybe before I leave I can write everyone a note? A sorry letter to Amber for starters. She was everything I wish I was and didn't deserve my anger.
When we get to the mansion, the driver gets out to open my door I try giving him a friendly smile, but realize halfway through I'm just sneering. I don't think I've ever had an actual smile. One where you just show all your teeth and your eyes does that sparkle thing and you just look radiant - like Amber Marigold. No, the closest thing to a smile for me is a grimace or a sneer.
The driver leads me into the grand house and takes me to an office. In the chair is a handsome muscled man with hazel hair and a broad smile.
"Camila Cabrero. I'm delighted to finally meet you," the Southern leader says and takes my hand before kissing it.
He looks at me like he doesn't see how rotten I am and it's such an unfamiliar look, that I step back in panic. Frown. Glare. Why are you smiling at me?
"The honor is all mine," I reply.
"Please, sit," the handsome man says and I hear the door click shut behind me as I take a seat across from him. The desk is so big, but the Southern leader holds me trapped in his charming smile. "I trust you have what I need?" he asks.
"Do you have what I need?" I snarl.
The Southern leader smiles even broader and leans back. "It'll be here. Your new passport. New identity and enough money for you to make a fresh start," he says.
My heart flutters at the idea of freedom being so close. I can start over. I can get away. I can create my future. I might even be a new person. Be nice. Who knows, start an organization for girls like me. Girls that are victim to sexual assault from loved ones.
But for that dream. That future I'm dying for, I'd have to betray Xavier.... Be Camila the girl that deserves the worst just one more time. What has the North ever really done for me in anyway?
We don't have time for you, Camila.
She's such a desperate slut.
What's her flaw?
She was born.
Slowly, I pull the USB stick from my pocket and slide it over to the Southern leader. Everything is on there. All Xavier's data. His plans. Guns. Allays. Members. Everything the South needs.
"This... This is priceless. I can't thank you enough," the Southern leader says while taking the stick and popping it into his laptop.
In a few hours, I'll be free. I'll leave my fucked up family and with them everyone that took one look at me and figured I was too rotten to save. Everyone that used me. Looked down upon me.
I will be loved. I will be cared for. I will be happy.
"My documents?" I ask the Southern leader when he seems to be satisfied with his files.
"Yes, the driver will give it to you once he drops you off," the Southern leader says and hands me a charming smile again. I feel all warm at the smile. People don't often smile at me.
"Thank you," I say and mean it with all my heart.
I leave the office and the driver is waiting for me. I follow him back to the car. Silent. And he takes me away. Soon I'll be on a bus. Soon I can leave this place. Maybe meet someone who can help me become a better person? Maybe I'll get a dog? I've always wanted a dog, but the last one I had was 'accidentally' run over by my brother.
When we don't go back to the park, something inside me gnaws at my heart. Instead, we pull over at an alley. The driver climbs out and I'm frozen as he opens my door for me. I try convincing myself that maybe he was told to hand me the documents somewhere private. Once I'm out, the driver goes to get my documents in the trunk.
I stand, waiting and thinking about all the lives I can change in my new life.
"The boss sends his thanks," the driver suddenly says. When I look up, I hear a loud bang and then feel my body jerk to the side.
I look down and there's a hole in my chest and red blood suddenly stains my shirt. I can't comprehend why this is happening, but when I want to ask, another bullet fires at me. I lose my balance and fall to my knees. Shaking, I watch as the driver climbs back into his car and then speeds away. I watch blood flow over my chest and spill onto my knees and hands and the dirty pavement.
I'm dying, I realise.
In disbelief, I feel my body fall back and my head hits the ground hard. I feel the copper taste of blood in my mouth. Seconds. I have seconds. And yet, I'm not screaming for help.
Tears spill down my cheeks, because I know the reason I'm not screaming for help is because help never comes. It didn't come the first time my stepdad touched my body. It didn't help the last time my brother made my insides bleed.
And maybe more truthfully, I'm not screaming, because I know I've been awful enough do deserve this. I'm too late for redemption. And I'm going straight to hell.
With one last attempt at doing the right thing, I dip my finger in my blood and write on the pavement next to me. I'm shaking so bad and have already lost feeling in my legs and torso. After seconds, I manage to have my message on the pavement.
I'm sorry.
I stay still as a statue on the ground as the life leaves my body. The only thing I can still feel is the hot tears on my cheeks. How long will it be before they find me? How long will it be before they even look? Will anyone care?
Or will everyone have a toast at my death that has finally arrived?
"Cheers," I croak out, "Here's to the death of a mean girl."
I just wish someone could've kno-
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Hey goldies!
One death down, 6 to go! Or more.
Who felt sorry for Camila?
Who was smiling all the way through?
I have to admit, I had a bit of tears in my eyes for some reason. I just have a soft spot for misunderstood people. Like, I feel like Camila is me in the sense that not many people will care if I die. Eh, let's not go there.
Next chapter is out tomorrow.
Love y'all and pleaseeeee vote and comment and stay awesome! Challenge of the week: find someone mean and be nice to them.
