My bedroom door is locked as I sit on the carpet, looking through the photographs taken from Victoria’s camera, trying to see if I missed certain clues whilst looking through them last time. A cold cup of strong coffee stands beside me as my eyes hungrily scan the photographs. It reminds me of the times dad and I would spend, looking for action figures in one of the children’s books I had as a child. “The easiest clues are hard to find.” Dad would say as frustration would take over my bones at my lack of progress in finding the action figures.
“Why?” I’d ask as I’d furrow my eyebrows.
“Because they’re right in front of you,” Dad would reply as he pointed to the figure right in front of my eyes. “You see, it was right in front of you.”
“Yeah!” I’d exclaim as I’d hug him.
It’s funny how quickly times change. Long gone is my children’s book and the rose patterned arm chair, mum bought at an antique shop. Long gone are my carefree days and innocent days, spent oblivious to the world, feeling immortal.
Now, my friend has been declared missing, possibly dead, a stranger by the name of Viper texts me, and Alyssa has the entire school, wrapped around her finger.
Grumbling under my breath, I pick up the photographs and place glue tac on the back of them before sticking them on the wall. One by one, the black and white photographs of Old Man Black’s place fill the space of my wall. I stand back and squint. There should be something. There has to be something.
I need answers.
Part of me wants to ask dad for help. He has always been good at solving things like this.
I throw my hair into a ponytail as I pace around the room, trying to piece events together in my mind. My problems began the day the media assignment was given, but the moment the bullet hit Old Man Black’s head, it was too late to turn back.
I can hear the clock ticking, reminding me, my time is running out. I can’t run out of time. It isn’t an option. It has never been an option.
I pick up my phone. David has the tapes. Maybe an exchange can be made between us. Maybe this will put an end to all my troubles.
You’ve never been one to give up easily, my mind says. Why now?
“She’s my friend,” I mumblw under my breath as my nails click softly on the screen.
Bitches have no friends. They walk alone.
“Bullshit,” I reply. “Every bitch needs an accomplice.” The call doesn’t go through, but instead, ends up on voicemail.
Shit.
I end the call and I’m about throwing it on the bed when a text arrives.
Looking for answers? Good luck finding them.
V.
Rage builds in my veins. My hands begin to tremble as my blood boils. Before I realize what I’m doing, it’s too late. The phone is on the ground, surrounded by shards of glass. I’m screaming, howling like a wounded animal. “Who are you?”
**
Hotpants isn’t at school, but Alyssa is.
Dressed in the latest fashion, she walks across the hallway with a bag the size of the European continent, on her arm. I stifle a giggle. She looks utterly ridiculous.
“What are you laughing at?” She asks, glaring at me. I don’t reply. I begin moving away when she grabs my arm. “I said ‘what are you laughing at?’”
“Watch it, Baby G. you know, you still look fat. That pretty dress isn’t going to hide the fact you were nothing but a big blob in year eight.”
“How dare you?”
“It’s simple really. I don’t follow your rules.”
Alyssa smirks. “Well, that’s funny. What about Viper’s rules?” she releases my arm and walks into the girl’s bathroom, swaying her hips from side to side, as I stand in the middle of the hallway with an ashen face.
**
“You’re so ugly, Amanda. No one likes you. Your daddy didn’t want you.” Baby G said as she pushed me against the metal lockers. Her pudgy fingers wrapped themselves around my neck and I crinkled my nose at her extreme case of bad breath. The Blob really needed a mint.
“Shut up,” I wheezed, as I tried to catch my breath.
“You’re so fat and ugly. Your blonde hair looks bad and you look like an ogre, with that scar on your cheek.”
“Isn’t that what you are? An ogre?” I replied. Baby G’s eyes widened when she realized it was an insult. However, by the time she noticed, it was too late. I had kicked her and freed myself from her clutches. My first thought was to rush away. Then rage and hurt let themselves in. the Blob had teased me about my hair, my freckles, and most importantly, my scar. No one teased me about my scar. I was through with running. No one was ever going to push me around ever again. No one would ever push me around.
“You freak!” Baby G yelled as she struggled to stand up.
“Wrong move,” I replied as I pounced on her. Screams filled my ears as the blood lust began. People cheered, people egged me on, people applauded. My fists bled. Sweat ran down my face. I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop.
Why?
It felt good. It was euphoric, addicting. Power was a drug and I never wanted to let it go. It was that moment I understood why daddy punched mummy and hit me on the face with the beer bottle. It was that moment I understood why Baby G tortured everyone. The feeling however, ended when strong arms pulled me from the child on the floor. The cheering faded and the sound of teacher’s voices sliced my eardrums. “You’re in so much trouble.” They said.
“I’ll make you pay for what you did.” Baby G screamed as she was pulled away.
**
I arrive home and nearly drown myself in the bathtub. I need more information. I need answers, clues, anything…
I quickly hurry out of the bathtub and scroll through people’s activities on Facebook. It doesn’t take me long to find what I’m looking for.
Hanging out with Alyssa at the Rose Gardens :)
I can’t help but smile. “Thanks Sarah.” I say, as I look at my mutated phone. Then I begin questioning how she arrived on my Friend’s List in the first place. It was probably through Victoria… I’m not sure.
I hurriedly throw on some clothes and make up an excuse as to why I’m suddenly leaving the house at night, instead of studying.
I soon begin making my way to the Rose Gardens, along the highway. I drive quickly, not wanting to miss the opportunity before me. The clock is ticking. It waits for no one.
I park in the car park and wait until I spot Alyssa with her new bunch of friends, exciting the small café. They hug, kiss and say their farewells, before going their separate ways.
That is Alyssa’s first mistake. She decides to stay back, as if waiting for someone. I remain in my car, watching, waiting for something to happen. Is she Viper, or is she waiting for Viper? I can’t wait to find out. I wait for thirty five minutes and soon become bored out of my mind, so, I leave the car.
That is Alyssa’s second mistake. She’s unaware of my presence, and has her back turned to me.
“Hello Alyssa.” I watch as her body jerks in surprise and she quickly turns around.
“What do you want?”
“Where is Victoria?”
She flicks her hair. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” This is so cliché.
“Yes you do. Where is Viper?”
“Are you going cray, cray, Amanda? Paranoid, maybe?”
I strike Alyssa on the cheek, reveling in the sound of the sharp cry in the air. I hit her again and again, until she falls to the ground. “Where is she?”
“I don’t know.” Alyssa stands up, pulling down her dress.
“Viper is-” Her words are abruptly cut off and she falls to the ground, as the sound of a gunshot cracks through the night. I too, throw myself to the ground, breathing heavily.
It takes five attempts to regain the use of my voice box. “Al…Aly…Alyssa?” There’s no reply. “Alyssa?” Still no reply.
My phone vibrates and dread suddenly rushes through my body. I yank it from the jean constraints and I open the message with shaky fingers.
She’s been terminated. Stay clear of the bullet, Kiddo.