The Lost Cause

Short story based on a series entitled Mental. It explores the fine line between insanity and sanity. Warning it contains premature death and some violence.

The Crime

I woke up in the morning to an average day, the sky was downcast and the traffic was screeching outside my window.  The overly sweet scent of my sister’s pancakes and the sour tinge of the juice she insisted on squeezing was thick in the air. Not bothering to change out of my pyjamas I padded my way to the kitchen. Breakfast was already laid out, choc chip pancakes and a pitcher filled with a murky pink liquid. I could hear the sounds of the hairdryer in the distance.

Breakfast was done as soon as I tossed my glass of bitter juice down the sink. Grapefruit was never one of my favourite flavours. I still hadn’t caught sight of her so I slid off my chair and made my way to her room. It was in the usual mess.  Coloured clothes were scattered like a carpet on the floor, the hairdryer still on was hanging off the dressing table and hot steam was wafting out of the bathroom doors. Knowing she would take her time in the shower I got comfortable.

Snuggling into the unmade bed I flipped on the TV. The Saturday cartoons were on and I was soon bouncing up and down and shouting for the heroes to get the bad guys. In all my excitement a stack of books got knocked off the bedside table. They were all soppy romance novels, the ones with long haired men holding crying women to their chests. As I pushed them away I noticed a sharp brown edge sticking out of some pages. I giggled when it turned out to be her badge. Only she would use official property as a bookmark. When I was little it was the most thrilling thing to have a detective in the family. I used to spend hours begging her to tell me stories. It was nothing like the cartoons; she took on real crimes and put real perverts behind bars. Her words not mine.

The phone rang and I counted to five before picking it up. It was probably my mother. She always called at this time with the third degree. With a sigh I turned off the TV.

‘Hey Ma,’ I said grumpily

‘Damien, what’s wrong?’ she demanded

‘Nothing, I just woke up’

‘Is Lilac taking care of you? Have you eaten breakfast?’

‘Yes Mama, I just ate’

Where’s your sister? She didn’t leave you alone did she?’

‘She is having a shower, I’m watching TV’

‘Nothing inappropriate I hope’

‘No Ma, just cartoons’

‘I suppose you are going to be glued to that TV for the rest of the day’

‘Lilac said we could go to the park to ride my bike’

‘Just don’t hurt yourself and tell your sister to call me’

‘I will, love you, bye’

‘Love you too ’

I was about to turn on the TV when the sound of a door slamming echoed through the house. Frowning I slid off the bed and made my way outside.

The lights in the hall had gone off and there were no windows to offer any sunlight. Working from memory I directed myself to the kitchen. I stopped short of the entryway, very frightened. Somebody was rifling through the forbidden cupboard. In the dim light all I could make out was a small silhouette in a tattered jeans jacket.  The intruder was unloading the bottles from the cupboard. I watched this process in fascination before snapping to my senses. I started to run back but my socked feet slipped on the marble floor.

My chin made impact with a hard crack on the polished surface. I couldn’t stop the cry that escaped my lips as I lay stunned on the ground. Two pairs of black sneakers came into my vision. I shivered as two slim hands encrusted in rings and metallic bracelets grasped me. I was lifted to my feet and words were said but I was too dizzy to make any sense of it. Just as I was regaining my bearings I was shoved to the floor again. This time my arm took the brunt of the impact.

I tried to scramble up but a foot on my back held me in place. I screamed for Lilac, praying she would hear me. Praying she would get out of the damned shower, get her gun and shoot this person in the head. All I got in response was the crude laughter of my attacker. I tried to move to get a better look. Lilac said identification is very important when trying to catch criminals. It was a mistake. As soon as I moved I felt a heavy crack against my skull.

 I barely registered the first hit when it was repeated again and again all over my body. I screamed and screamed till my voice was hoarse. Then I felt it against my neck.  Black spots danced across my unclear vision. I was drowning. I gasped and gasped but I couldn’t get any air

She just stood there for days staring at the spot where I had been found. It was unnerving the way her eyes never wavered. When she finally moved it was to attend my funeral. It seemed so strange to watch as she took no care in painting her face and wrapped herself in shades of black. I hated black on her; she looked so old, so weary and so tired. Her eyes never left the casket that carried my broken body. It was a closed casket because even the embalmer couldn’t fix the damage done. It was all so mundane; there was no rain, no tragic line of weeping mourners. Rather everyone just sat around shell-shocked.

Eventually they had to go, one by one as my body was left in a box in the ground. Even my things, my videogames, my clothes, my books were thrown into hollow boxes. Wrapped in black layers of scotch tape and thrown at the back of the attic. They would stay there forever and I would never get to finish that game, outgrown my jeans or colour my books. 

 

The Case

Lilac gazed at the mural that coloured the roof of her girlish room. It was a nauseating scene of unicorns and dancing fairies. They had always frightened me especially the eyes that followed you across the room. She used to laugh and say that they only did that to naughty children. Now she stared at their unblinking faces as if their glitter dust could help. Even a sharp knock on the door didn’t break her from her staring competition.

‘Lilac didn’t you hear me calling?’ Mama hissed as she came uninvited into the room

‘Sorry,’ she murmured her eyes fixed on the ceiling

‘Dinner has been ready for ten minutes,’ Mama said, ‘you know dinner starts at six.’

‘I’m not hungry,’ she said

‘That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t eat’

‘I can’t eat when he is not here’

‘And whose fault is that!’

‘I know, I know. I should have been there’

‘Well it is too late for regrets’

‘I’m sorry Mama, I’m sorry’

‘Lilac enough I don’t want to hear it’

‘I wish it was me that was dead’

Mama just stood there her lips pursed and her slim shoulders shaking. She watched as Lilac kept repeating sorry over and over again. Finally she turned away and left. The door slammed shut; Lilac shuddered and slid off the bed. She moved like a robot, slowly and precisely gathering her things. They were all stuffed into an old ballet bag that she tossed over her shoulder before climbing out of the window.

She ran through the garden in her bare-feet, not caring about the mud that caked around her ankles. Still in her pyjamas she looked like some midsummer elf going crazy in the moonlight. It reminded me of the stories Mama used to tell about her. She would sneak off in the night to go to parties and then completely deny it in the morning. Mama said she was so convincing that she almost got away with it.

The dining room windows were open when she crossed the driveway but Mama didn’t glance up. Even the whirring protest of the garage doors didn’t bring her out of the house. Lilac ran her hands through her hair as she stood on the cold cement floor. Her eyes darted around the room finally resting on a toolbox. She wrenched open the lid and started to rummage through it. Screwdrivers, nails and a pair of clippers were thrown aside before she picked up a reel of wire.

Untwisting a long metallic strand she broke it off and edged her way between the cars. Leaning against the door of the Mercedes she fiddled with the lock. The wire drew long scratches on the pearly paint as she jiggled and pulled. Nothing happened. She tried again and the alarm started to screech in protest. Cursing, she smashed her fists against the hood of the car.

‘Miss Lilac, Madam asked me to see if you are alright’

Lilac turned to see Wallace the butler, at the door. He looked at her disapprovingly, holding something up to the light. It was the keys to the Mercedes.

‘What’s that?’ she dumbly asked

‘The keys,’ Wallace said in his crisp tone, ‘Madam suggested that you might want them.’

Clenching her palms into fists she stood there glaring. Wallace sighed deeply, placed the keys on the booth and left. She grabbed the keys and with two neat beeps got the car open. Sliding into the interior she jammed them into the ignition and roared the engine to life. Without even looking, she backed up and sped out of the driveway. It wasn’t till she was outside of the neighbourhood that she slowed down. She didn’t seem to know where she was going.

Eventually the roads became familiar, the trees became scarcer and the ground bumpier. Discoloured post-boxes lined the street against the misshapen buildings. She didn’t realize she had stopped and parked in her usual spot. The car-park was full as most of the neighbours were home for the night. Even the bike post was crammed with chained up bicycles. My blue and yellow ride was still there, waiting to go to the park. I wondered what would happen to it now. Mama didn’t want me to have it; she thought it was too soon to remove my training wheels. I had whined and begged till she had relented. Now some other kid would be racing it in the park and ringing my shiny bell.

The sun was coming up when she decided to get out of the car. As usual the lift which she always sniggered and called ‘old faithful’ was jammed. Her place was up three flights of stairs and we would race to see who could get there first. She would let me win and then we would eat a tub of ice-cream for dinner.  Without the race it took her ages to walk up the stairs, her pace slowing even more when she reached the top. The doorway to her apartment was like a movie set. It was strung with yellow police lines and ‘no entry signs’. She brushed them away and tried the door.

Her key no longer worked so she had to resort to other measures. Using the piece of wire she had taken from the garage she began to pick the lock.  This time it worked and with a click she pushed open the door.  The house was in a mess, pillows on the floor, carpets rolled up. A line of red tape blocked the hallway from the kitchen. Glass was still on the ground and an x pointed to the spot where I had fallen. It took her two deep breaths to get the courage to walk inside.

She approached the hallway, her eyes fixated on the x. Ripping the red thread off she crouched down and traced it with her finger. Her face creased in thought, she got up and backtracked to the kitchen. She dug around the drawers till she found a thin circular object. A twist of its lid caused a bluish violet light to shine from it. Training the light on the taffy coloured tiles she returned to the hallway. The light continued to give the marble a sickening glow but it was different. Dark brown splotches began to appear wherever the light shone.

Using the light to guide her way she followed the path of the brown stains. I didn’t understand her fascination. She even retrieved a note book and started to sketch out the pattern, taking great pains to be precise. Retiring to her bedroom she settled on the unmade bed and stared at her drawing for hours. Suddenly she sat up and flung the book to the other end of the room. With an enraged scream she buried her face in the dirty sheets. Her entire frame shook as she wailed against the pillow. I couldn’t stand to watch her.

It was irrational the fear I felt when I saw her again. She couldn’t harm me anymore. I was beyond that but I could feel my non-existent heart beating against my chest.  Every instinct I had within me wanted to scream, once again for my sister. This time to warn her, to tell her to fight, to save herself. My voice had even less weight than the wind.  Like a snake she snuck in, the rubber soles of her shoes crushing the glass shards into dust.  The red tape lay uselessly on the floor so she had no trouble getting into the dark hallway. She held up a bucket filled with a viscous red liquid. A strange feeling of sickness settled on me. With a soundless laugh she splashed it all over the floor, covering everything in the fresh blood. Then she disappeared.

Lilac woke up and rushed out of the room. The raw, sickening odour was too strong to ignore. As she pushed her door open it drew a bloody line on the jellylike substance on the floor. Her face became very pale and she stepped back. It lay out before her like a lumpy, grotesque carpet. Covering her mouth she closed her eyes and gulped. A loud squish was heard as her foot made contact with the ground. She scrunched her toes and grimaced as she made her way across the mess. She jumped into the kitchen space and looked wearily around. Nobody was there but the balcony door was swinging open. Not caring to clean her feet she rushed out and instantly regretted it.

There hanging from the ceiling lamp was the mangled body of a cat. A bucket was underneath it with red smears on the inside. On the plain wooden table was a rusty pocket knife covered in dried black blood. Nobody needed to guess where the mess had come from.  She walked back inside the apartment. The smell was becoming ranker by the minute but she didn’t care. With trembling fingers she lifted the phone and dialled the familiar number. A calm voice answered and she broke down.

They came almost immediately swarming into the apartment like an army of ants. The rooms were bathed in a bright white light as they began to investigate. She stood in the corner shivering with her partners arm around her. He was consoling and scolding her in the same breath.  However her attention was elsewhere as she watched them swab for fingerprints and search for clues. A lady in a deep black and blue uniform came over and called John away.  In a hushed voice she spoke to him, her eyes darting to and from Lilac.

‘Lil,’ John called, ‘can you come over here for a minute.’

She remained rooted to the spot, watching as they cut the cat down from rope.

‘Lil,’ he called again.

When she didn’t respond he grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her

‘Wh..at? she asked

‘Lil,’ he said calmly, ‘you have to listen to me.’

‘Okay’

‘They found your fingerprints on the pocket knife and the bucket’

‘I don’t understand’

‘Lil you know what this means. They want you to come back with us’

She stared at him, her eyes glassy and confused. With a sigh he hugged her but she wrenched herself away.

‘You don’t think…’ she began

‘Lil it’s just routine,’ he said, ‘you know that!’

‘He is my brother,’ she shouted, ‘how dare you’

‘Lil…’

‘Don’t….just don’t’

He reached out for her but she swung back her fists and struck him in the face. He didn’t try to defend himself and in one fluid movement she had disarmed him. Holding up the gun, she inched her way to the front door.

‘Don’t follow me,’ was all she said before tucking it in her waistband and running off

‘Sir, should we pursue?’ one of the men asked

‘Don’t,’ John said, ‘let’s give her some time.’

‘Sir that’s highly unprofessional’

‘She is a fugitive of the law’

‘I said to give it a rest!’

 

The Criminal

She leaned across the bar stool and stared contemplatively into the golden liquid. Her hair fell in strings around her shoulders, her face was smudged and her clothes well worn. The barman kept glancing at her as if she was a criminal. He was mostly right. With a yawn she lifted the glass and took a deep gulp. A rough hand took hold of her shoulder.

‘Hey kid, you’re in my spot,’ growled the even rougher voice

She shrugged his hand off and took another sip of the drink. This time it was knocked from her grip. She didn’t flinch as the glass cracked against the polished surface and the liquid splashed on her clothes.

‘Looks like the lady dropped her drink,’ snorted her attacker

She licked the alcohol off her fingers before turning to regard him. Her dark eyes sized him up and a lazy smiled curled on her lips.

‘The names Jade,’ she drawled, ‘and I ain’t no lady’

‘You don’t have to tell me that,’ he jeered

‘Funny,’ she said coolly, ‘you remind me of my Daddy’

‘Then make like a good little girl and move’

She hopped off the stool and gestured to it with flair. With a throaty laugh the man settled down and placed his order, when he turned around she was gone.

‘You should watch who you let in this place, Paul,’ he said as he waited for his drink

‘She’s a strange one,’ the barman said, ‘comes here most Fridays but that the first time I got her name.’

Jade settled comfortably in her shadow, she knew it would be a long wait. The alleyway she had chosen stunk of decaying garbage but she didn’t mind.  Tossing her knife in the air, she listened for the footsteps that passed. The clicakety clack of high-heels went ignored, as did the soft thumps of a jogger. The slow heavy steps in uneven timing however got her interest. Catching her knife she held it behind her back and shifted into the sidewalk. He stumbled at her sudden appearance and growled. The alcohol had wiped away his humour.

‘Get out of my way,’ he roared

Once again she moved to the side and allowed him to pass. When his back was turned she raised her knife and jammed it into his neck. He shouted in surprise and pain. Avoiding his attempts to grab her she pulled the blade down the length of his spine. He fell forward onto his knees.

‘There’s another thing you should know about me,’ she said, ‘I hated my Daddy.’

With that she smashed his head with her elbow and took out her knife. Wiping the blood on his shirt she twirled it between her fingers and walked away. By the time he was found she was on the other end of town, heading for a cream and yellow bungalow with bright coloured roses in the yard. The knife was tucked inside her jacket and the taxi driver didn’t know he was leaving a killer outside my house.

Mama swallowed two aspirins and settled against the cool leather sofa. Classical music floated in through the speakers and the calm scent of vanilla candles wafted in the room. Our housekeeper Heather pulled down the bright orange shades as Mama tried to rest. She had that pinched look on her face that meant she was worried.  The sound of the doorbell ringing caused her to open her eyes but when Heather checked there was no one there. It was silly but I wished Heather would call the police. Instead she returned to Mama complaining about teenagers.

Jade scaled the garden wall like a cat but landed with less grace. Brushing the mud off her fraying jeans she fished a cigarette from her pocket and lit it up. Leaning against a tree she blew smoke into the air and stared at the house. After a while she removed the knife from the folds of her jacket and stabbed it into the soft mud. The blade slid in but the handle stuck out. Digging her fingers into the mud she piled it around the handle. When it was fully covered she brushed her hands off and smiled.

She stomped her third cigarette into the ground and continued to stroll around the garden. She seemed to know the layout well. It scared me to think about how many times she had been here.  She crossed over to a pile of rocks and picked one up, weighing it in her hand. Biting her lip she eyed the window with the orange shades. A grin broke across her face. I shouted but no one heard me as the rock was hurled through the glass window. Mama and Heathers screams filled the air.

Mama clutched her bleeding hand and stared at the mess in dismay. The window was completely shattered with glass sprayed all over the ground. Heather was shrieking in hysterics and Wallace was frozen in the doorway.  With a deep breath she got to her feet and regarded the staff.

‘Heather will you stop that unholy moaning,’ she snapped

‘Perhaps I should take Miss Bell away,’ Wallace suggested

‘No, no,’ Heather trembled, ‘I’m sorry, I’m fine.’

‘Did you see who did it?’ Wallace asked

‘Her back was to the wall,’ Mama said curtly, ‘and I was lying down’

‘Madam your hurt,’ Heather gasped, ‘let me get the first aid kit.’

‘There’s no need, it’s superficial’

‘But Madam…’

‘Just get the maid in to clean this mess’

‘Surely the police would want to see it first’

‘We are not calling the police’

‘Madam, it needs to be reported’

‘I said no more police’

Mama got up and left the room. She was agitated; I could tell by the way she stormed down the hall and burst into Lilacs room. There was a maid in there dusting but Mama got rid of her with one sharp word. As soon as she left, Mama rummaged through the room. She hauled out drawers, opened cupboards and shifted through paper. The room was in a mess by the time she found Lilacs phone underneath the pillow. Leaning against the bed, Mama filed through the contacts and dialled one.

‘Hello,’ a distorted voice answered, ‘Lilac?’

‘This is her mother, Mrs Tanner’

‘Oh, I had hoped…..’

‘Is this John Willcott’

‘Yes.  How can I help you Mrs Tanner?’

‘Mr Willcott we have a problem’

‘I am well aware Madam. Your daughter is missing and we need to get in touch with her’

‘I don’t know where she is but it is crucial you find her’

‘Why? What has happened?’

‘Nothing but her life is in danger’

‘I don’t understand’

‘The same person who killed my son is after her’

‘How do you know this?’

‘Just call it mother’s intuition and Mr Willcott….’

‘Yes Ma’am’

‘Please bring my daughter home.’

‘I will do my best Ma’am’

Mama put down the phone and sat on the bed with a sigh. She took a moment to compose herself before placing the phone under the pillow and leaving. The sounds of four vacuums was deafening as she made her way to the lounge room. Moving around the staff she picked the rock off the ground and went out into the garden. Heavy footprints were all over the mud leading up to the rock pile. Placing the rock with the others she turned on the hose and sprayed the garden down. All evidence of the intruder was flooded away.

 

The Cure

Lilac made that face she did when she didn’t want to cry. It was the same face she had on when we watched sad movies. Her nose would scrunch up, her eyes would widen and she would sniff and pretend to have a cold. I didn’t know why she was pretending because no one was around to see. She was hunched over in a vandalised taxi stand furiously rubbing her hands together. She was lost and alone with nothing but a few dollars and a gun to keep her company.

‘I need to find the b*****d who did this,’ she muttered, ‘even if I get charged for obstructing the law.’

‘Hey you,’ a man called out from his car, ‘want a ride.’

‘Get lost!,’ she hissed, removing the gun.

She glared at the retreating car before tucking the gun back into her waistband. Jamming her hands in her pockets she began to walk. Each street sign she passed was met with a frown and a sigh. She had no idea where she was. After about thirty minutes, she found herself back at the taxi stand. It was obvious because of the colourful expletives that were unique to its walls.  

‘Damn,’ she said kicking the stand and sitting back down

Her exhaustion caught up with her and she fell asleep against the plastic walls. It was still early in the morning when a loud horn jolted her awake. She fell forward scraping her knees on the hard pavement. She pulled herself up and glared at her assaulter.

‘You’re lucky I still check up on this old route,’ the wrinkled taxi-driver said, ‘get in’

‘You don’t…,’ Lilac began but then changed her mind.

The interior of the cab was as old as its driver, the leather seats pitted with holes and the air conditioning wheezing tiny puffs of hot air. It was an improvement on the stand though so she leaned against the seat and closed her eyes.

‘Hey, Kid,’ the driver said waking her once again

‘What?’ she mumbled

‘Where are you headed?’

She bit her lip and frowned as she thought of the possibilities. Then with a resigned sigh she gave him an address

‘Bit of a long way from home aren’t you,’ the driver said as he swerved the car sharply to the right

‘I got lost,’ Lilac said, pulling on her seat belt

‘You’re lucky that’s all you got,’ he said, ‘it’s not the safest neighbourhood.’

She didn’t bother to answer and the conversation simmered into silence. The driver soon turned the radio to a station which played old peoples music. Lilac’s head lolled to the slow tunes and she was soon fast asleep. When the car stopped outside the grey stone house, the driver had to call her three times before she moved. Blinking tiredly she stumbled out of the car and jammed all her cash into his hand. She pushed past the wooden gate and pressed her palm against the doorbell. A jingling tune rang through the house and footsteps came rushing through the door.

‘Hey,’ Lilac said sheepishly

John’s eyes widened in surprise but then he pulled her into the house. He didn’t say a word until she was settled in the kitchen with a warm drink in her hands.

‘Lil, what are you doing here?’ he asked after she had taken three sips

‘I didn’t know where else to go,’ she said, ‘did I disturb you?’

‘No,’ he said frowning, ‘but you almost missed me.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I just came back from visiting your mother.’

‘Why?’

‘She called worried about you’

Lilac groaned and rested her head against the cool marble table. John sipped his own drink and watched her. When it became clear that she wasn’t going to move, he put down his cup and yanked her to her feet.

‘What are you doing?’

‘You need to get some sleep’

‘I’m fine’

‘Don’t argue with me Lilac!’

She fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow and he quietly left the room. He was cleaning up the kitchen when his phone beeped. He read the message with a frown and hurried to the front door. One of his men was waiting there with a wrapped up bundle.

‘We found this Sir, it’s quite damning’

‘Give it to me. I will take it to headquarters’

‘Are you sure Sir, I can do that’

‘No, they need you back at the crime scene’

Jade gritted her teeth as John placed the parcel on the kitchen table. Punching a fist into her hand, she waited in her corner. When he left the room she reached out for it. Her fingers had just curled around the edges when he returned. Swearing she ducked back into her shadow.

‘John,’ Lilac said coming up behind him

‘What are you doing up?’ he said startled

‘I couldn’t sleep,’ she said with a shrug, ‘thought I could help you with something.’

‘There’s nothing much to do,’ he said warily

‘What’s that?’

‘Just some evidence I need to take into the lab’

‘Is it regarding my brother?’

‘You know I can’t tell you that’

She licked her lips and watched in annoyance as they continued to talk. Finally she could take it no more. With characteristic boldness she came out of hiding and snatched the parcel from the table.  John stepped back startled as she ripped the knife out of the fabrics folds. It had gotten a bit rusty but she didn’t mind as she lunged at him. Lilac screamed.

John just missed getting sliced the first time but Jade was quick. Just as he sidestepped her she plunged the knife to his side. Lilac watched helplessly as he sunk to the ground.

‘Stop it,’ she begged, ‘please stop it’

Jade ignored her as she stood over her prey spinning the knife. Lilac tried to stop her but she easily shrugged her off. She bent down and carved JADE into his forehead before stepping back.

‘Didn’t get to do that with the kid,’ she said regretfully

Lilac was inert as she watched her partner, John bleed out in-front of her. She wanted to call the ambulance, the police but she couldn’t move. All she could do was stare as the kitchen was stained red. She knew nothing about medicine but she knew it was too late. He would never survive because of this monster. She tried to crawl over to him to wipe that wretched name off his face but her body wouldn’t respond.

‘Scared of blood,’ Jade sneered, ‘and you call yourself an agent.’

‘Who are you?’ was all Lilac managed to stutter

‘Don’t you know?’ Jade laughed, ‘you’ve been searching for me all week.’

‘What?’ Lilac said confused

‘Let me introduce myself,’ Jade said with flair, ‘Jade, murderer extraordinaire.’

‘You,’ Lilac cried, ‘you killed my brother.’

‘You should have heard him, screaming for his sister to save him.’

‘Shut up, shut up!’

Jade smiled sadistically as all colour drained from my sister’s face. There was no one around to intervene and I feared she was next.

‘He was only eight,’ she sobbed                                    

‘Eight,’ Jade snorted, ‘I was eight when Daddy dearest to tried his hand at carving’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘Don’t you remember? Here, let me refresh your memory!’

Jade stormed towards a mirror and scrunched the back of her t-shirt up. There in the reflection was her back puckered with faded burns and old scars. Lilac tugged the shirt down and backed away.

‘Mama said they were from a car accident’

‘And you were stupid enough to believe her’

‘Why did you kill him?’

‘He annoyed me’

‘You’re just like him then’

Jade stiffened and pursed her lips, a dark blush colouring her face.

‘Don’t you dare,’ she hissed, ‘you weren’t the one that suffered that b*****d for four years’

‘I don’t remember him’

‘Of course you don’t, you’re the one that was saved from the hellhole’

‘They saved the both of us’

‘No! They saved you and forgot about me’

Lilac turn to walk away but Jade dug her heels in the ground. They moved back and forward across the room as she tried to reach the door.

‘What do you think you are doing?’ Jade demanded holding her back

‘I’m turning myself in,’ Lilac said trying to pull away

‘I am not spending my life in another prison!’

‘It’s not your choice’

‘Get over the brat, living is overrated’

Lilac forced her hand to curl around the gun as Jade fought back furiously. She grunted as she forcefully raised it to her head. With resounding clarity the safety was clicked off.

‘What are you doing?’ Jade demanded

‘It’s either prison or this,’ Lilac said her voice shaking

‘You’re too much of a coward!’

‘Don’t test me’

‘PUT DOWN THE GUN!’

‘No! I won’t let you kill again’

‘PUT IT DOWN!’

The room swelled with the sound of the explosion and then settled into an eerie silence. She was crumpled on the floor her eyes wide in shock.  My sister and my killer. They were both dead.

THE END

Author's Note

Any advice regarding this is much appreciated, I would especially like to know if it reads well and can be understood. All constructive criticism is welcome but please no random abuse. Thanks :-)