No Lies

Prologue (Part-1)

ALAINA FREYA BROOKS

It was 2 a.m. I could hear the front door opening.

He thinks I am in slumber, he whispers about the getaways with his mistress to me, tells me that there is nobody else he could share them with.

He's inebriated, he stumbles across the room, murmurs about how his mistress pays more attention to him than me, sometimes I fear his tumultuousness will wake Celeste up.

I am always faced away from him, he can't see me, he doesn't want to see me, he brags about her angelic skin, her beguiling hair, her satanic mind, her oceanic eyes, her autarkic...

She is everything I am not, who I used to be.

He always repeats a sentence before giving into his drowsiness, I wish I never met you or that abomination...

I sniff her redolent off his clothes when I do the laundry. I notice the extra bills in his pockets now and then.

I know intoxicated words are the truth of a being's conscience, they lay your heart out. He has bitter words to say, perhaps too bitter for your spouse or offspring.

Tonight was no different, the torment forced, yet again, tears out of my eyes. I heard somewhere that the worst way to express your emotions is by being silent. I can't sound myself as I wail, I don't want him to know I can hear him.

Her name is Mayavi, it means elusive charlatan...

                                                                                                      She enthrals him in ways no other could...

CLAIRE AVA JAMES

15 years ago....

Every night, I mingle in the shadows and spy silently. I see him drugging my mother, telling her it will 'help with the pain'. After that day, her conscience retired, she depends on my father largely.

Tonight wasn't any different... He filled a meagre-sized glass with alcohol and mixed some red drops into it; gave it to my mom, told her to 'down' it.

I know that my father doesn't possess good intentions; he drugs my mother, hits her and rapes her.

As soon as the drug took its toll on my mother, he clenched her hair into his fist and slapped her. He tortures mom with his photographs, his memories, reminds her of his last breath...

All I always do is watch... all I can do is watch...

I saw him when the life faded from his eyes.

I swear I wanted to scream at what he did this time, but I didn't, I couldn't... I never have.

ISLA EVIE FRANKE

Flashback...

"Poppy," I kiss her cheek, "you'll stay with me, right? This can be our haven, a safe one," I hold her hands in mine.

"Where else do I have to go?" She smiles and holds my hands in hers, "we can come here every night and count the twinkles in the sky," A giggle escapes her lips and she pecks mine lightly after.

Three hours later...

My phone is ringing, I run to pick it up, knowing it would probably be Poppy since not many people call at this hour.

I pick it up and am met with the voice of a hiccuping Poppy. She's crying, hysterically.

"Poppy, what happened? Are you alright?" She isn't answering me, she's still crying.

"Shh Poppy, take some deep breaths, you need calm down okay?" I am trying to comfort her, I don't know I will need the comfort myself soon enough...

"Her killed her, he killed my mom," Her words are breathless, "Where is your sister Poppy?" I question her.

A scream follows my enquiry, it sounds excruciating, it is gut-wrenching.

"Please Poppy, tell me who is with you," Tears slip out of my eyes too, "I need to know Poppy," I am desperate.

"I am moving away with my aunt tonight," She is still crying, I try to comfort her, even though tears slip out of me.

She needs me.

Three days later...

I haven't seen Poppy since we were at the abandoned creek, I haven't heard from her either. I send her small texts often, in hopes of her feeling better.

I understand she needs her space. I still try to comfort her.

Isla never heard from Poppy again.