For me, aged fifteen, who decided she wanted to write and didnt let anything stop her.
Dari
I hadn’t intentionally set out to murder Roscoe, but now that he was dead, I knew that I had always been right; I was a terrible killer. There was no doubt in my mind that today was the day my foolishness finally landed me in jail. I knew bringing Roscoe here had been beyond stupid. An abandoned parking lot was not exactly the best for privacy, and it was always going to be the sort of place low lives hung out in, but I wanted his money bad enough that I lost sight of everything else. I hadn’t set out to kill him, it was just one of those times where my anger took precedent over everything else and before I knew it, I was staring at the battered body of a man no longer alive.
The police sirens in the distance were getting louder and I was running out of time to stage my crime. I couldn’t go to jail, not when I had my two sisters to think about. They would not survive to their nineteenth birthday without me, and I would die a long hard death before I ever left them willingly. So no, jail was not an option.
Come on Dari, think think think.
A half-cocked plan entered my stress addled mind and I dragged Roscoe’s body, which seemed too easy a feat considering I was an underfed kid, and he weighed the same as a house, to the bottom of the cracked concrete staircase and lay him down as though he had taken a nasty tumble.
His broken face was turned down on the ruined floor, his blood immediately spilling everywhere when I smashed his head into the ground for good measure. With a tweak or two of his limbs my stage was set. Anyone who found Roscoe would presume he had face planted the filthy floor. It was sort of comical how easy this had been to do so far; I had always presumed murders would be harder to hide.
Roscoe was a local drug dealer, who happened to owe a gangbanger I worked for an awful lot of money, that I had been sent to collect, and so it would be no shock to anybody in this messed up little town that he had taken a swan dive down three flights of stairs.
It didn’t matter that this parking lot had been abandoned for years, or that it was on the complete opposite side of the city to where Roscoe lived. All the people would see is the end of a man who they despised and enough evidence that suicide or accident would be ruled easily. I had no time for further theatrics, so what I had done would have to be good enough to calm my fears.
Like I said, I hadn’t even broken his neck on purpose; it had been a consequence of pushing him over too hard onto a misplaced chair. But that meant there was no hand shaped bruises around his throat for to me worry about and I couldn’t ask for more luck than that. Grazie alle stelle. Thank the stars. I cursed in Italian, liking the way the words flowed better than in English.
My sisters and I rarely got a chance to speak the language anymore, but we were all fluent thanks to the orphanage we had spent our formative years in, presuming we were Italian due to our dark eyes and olive skin. Not that Kaida ever gets tanned the little Vampira, she gets paler by the day. We were told we looked like we could have been daughters of the head Nun, who hailed from Rome, and she was more than happy to teach us her native tongue.
My senses were alive with adrenalin as the police cars came even closer and without thinking I pulled off my red balaclava, wiping the sweat from my brow and ruining the last of my foundation. Despite being scared out my mind about going to jail, I couldn’t lie that I wasn’t excited just a little. I had long ago suspected that my anger would culminate in death and now that it had I felt a little proud of myself. At least I had killed a worthless waste of oxygen and not an innocent person.
My phone beeped with a text from my younger sister Laina, not that she was that much younger on account of us being triplets and all. I yanked my gloves off to check it, careful not to take up too much of my precious time but knowing it would be worth it to see what she had said.
Laina;
Police coming, take wallet, keys and run left down Ambers Avenue. Kaida says DNA?
Kaida was my older sister and lucky for me/unlucky for her, she happened to have OCD. Most of her issues were with her schedule and the order of things, and if I was being honest, I didn’t understand half the crap that went on inside her head or came out her mouth, but she was a bit of a meticulous person when it came to cleanliness.
Of course she would remind me to check Roscoe’s body encase I had left DNA behind; I would have just left him and ran, never once contemplating I could have left a hair or something on him that would completely ruin any chances I had of getting away from this scot free.
For a moment I pretended to be Kaida and made a checklist of all the ways people were caught after a crime, and the things I had on. Apart from my jeans and shirt I wore gloves, a balaclava, and a knife. There was no chance any of my DNA had made it to Roscoe’s skin, and I had tied him up so there would be nothing under his nails either. Plus, Roscoe was blonde, and I had black hair; it would have been easy to spot my own mixed in with his.
My gloves were yanked back on, and I ripped open his old brown leather jacket, choking back on the stench of beer and filth. I immediately found his wallet and keys to his old Ford, snatching them up. Time was of the essence now and I had none left to worry. Two deep breaths were all I took before bolting like lightening left towards Ambers Avenue just like Laina had said.
Like always my younger sister’s warnings were right. As soon as I began running the police cars started arriving behind me. The screech of breaks and doors opening were enough to stir the beast within me, and I ran for the hills. Don’t stop; you can’t stop.
I sprinted faster than ever, praying that the rubber soles of my brand-new converse were not making too obvious a sound despite them ringing in my ears like a symphony of drums. Laina hadn’t given me much to go on to escape but I knew that with her backing me I would not be caught.
Laina was a little bit of a weird kid, and I didn’t mean weird in a normal human way. She always knew things that were about to happen or how to help me in situations like this. Not that I usually went around murdering people, most times they just got a little roughed up and I went on my jolly way to find the next target and my pay check.
But each time I thought I was screwed Laina would text me a saving grace. I guess if you had to pick a word to describe her, I would have said psychic, but that word didn’t sit right with me. I didn’t believe in paranormal shit like that; it was ridiculous. Obviously, I trusted Laina’s word without question, but more because she was my sister than because I believed she could see the future or anything.
Laina;
Alleyway, go north, man with green eyes; wait with him until it feels right to go.
I stopped running for only a second, to read Laina’s text, before I continued assaulting my body. Cardio was fun and all but running in general was not for me; did anybody normal enjoy running?
The constant battering of my bones against the ground was boring and achy. I preferred my cardio to be something much more exhilarating. I’d take a bare-knuckle fight over a treadmill session any day. But like a dutiful solider I followed Laina’s instructions and continued through an alleyway to the North, refusing to stop for even a second to catch my breath unless it was for Laina.
Sirens and the din of officers were still loud enough for me to hear properly, which meant they were still in the chase.
“Over there!” The voice of a female cop reached my ears as she shouted her friends in my direction, just as the alleyway closed off to a dead end.
Half-abandoned buildings covered the space either side of me, with a fifteen-foot-high brick wall at the farthest end. I was terrified of heights so even if
the wall had been low enough for me, I never would have had the guts to try jumping it. I was royally screwed.
Please if there is a God up there in the sky, help me. I can’t go to jail. I can’t leave my sisters.
A large pair of hands reached out and yanked me sideways; hiding me in the dark shadows of a gap between buildings I hadn’t spotted, rendering me invisible to anyone who dared walk past. Just as I thought my prayer had worked, I looked up at my saviour, right into the depths of his bright green eyes.
It wasn’t a God who had helped me; it was Laina’s warnings once again.
“Hello Princess.” The man grinned, his strong pale arms holding me tight enough to bruise. He had a crooked smile that was the best thing on his handsome face despite his chiselled features. It took me a moment to take him in, from the top of his curly blonde hair to the bottoms of his thick leather boots and boy did he get my heart racing when I did.
He looked like a Viking and for the tiniest moment I was not disappointed that he had found me. He was my fantasy come to life and I couldn’t stop the laugh escaping my lips even as I snapped at him.
“I'm hardly a Princess, so move your damn hands before you lose them stronzo.” Asshole. He instantly dropped my arms, returning his wayward hands to hang next to his hips.
I wasn’t a foolish girl; it didn’t matter how hot he was. All that mattered was that I didn’t know or trust him, and I had no idea if he was going to help me hide from the cops, or if he was going to hand me in. Or even worse; how was I to know he wasn’t a serial killer out on the prowl for little black-haired girls with too much attitude?
The racket of multiple voices hit my ears; the police were getting closer again, and the panic in me began to rise loud enough that my own heartbeat pounded through my soul. I wasn’t usually nervous after a crime, but I was in new territory now - I was a murderer.
I wonder if I would suit an orange jumpsuit or not?
“I think we have some things to talk about.” The Viking said with a slightly English accent I couldn’t quite place. “Perhaps we can go somewhere a little less public?”
“I think I would rather eat glass bastardo.” Bastard. I smiled sweetly as I cursed in Italian, wondering how Laina had ever thought it was a good idea for me to hide with this freak. I was probably one wrong move away from ending up at the bottom of a pit in his basement, waiting for him to throw me lotion or something.
The stranger opened his mouth to speak again before he closed it, shushing me with a wink. Seconds later the sounds of footsteps ran past us both and my heart stopped beating entirely.
This was it; the police were going to find me hiding out here, and I was going to spend the rest of my life in prison for accidentally murdering some douchebag who deserved it anyway. I didn’t even dare to breathe as the team of officers began searching the alleyway, waiting for the inevitable moment they discovered me here.
The seconds passed on in agony, until after what felt like a decade the police quickly began moving on, satisfied when they found nobody hiding out in the dumpsters along the far wall.
“Fucking hell.” I let out, ignoring the chuckle from the green-eyed man who stood far too close to me again. “That was close. Too fucking close.”
I had no idea how I had been so lucky tonight; I should have been in the back of a police car by now. I should have been on the cusp of ruining my already broken family.
“You have quite the sailor’s mouth, don’t you?” The man laughed as he moved towards the gap in the wall, almost blocking me inside with him. Oh hell no.
My anger flared and I closed the space between us as I leant forward, close enough to feel his hot breath on my face. I could smell the mint on his tongue and the faint scent of tobacco. His green eyes widened, and he swallowed loudly, giving me an ounce of proof that he was unsure of me too.
“You wanna know what else I’ve got baby?” I whispered, preparing myself to do the most amount of cardio I had ever done.
The man grinned and leaned down a little more, removing the height difference between us, which was no easy feat in this small gap, considering he was easily over six foot, and I was five-six on a good day.
“What’s that Princess?” He asked, the scent of his lemon body wash overwhelming me now. His blonde curled hair dropped slightly, almost getting into his eyes.
It was a shame he was a freak; I would have loved to run my hands through that hair. I was always attracted to weirdo’s like him.
“I have a mean right hook.” I said, before hitting him square in the jaw and ducking out our little hideout as he fell back against the wall with a gasp. He shouted after me to wait but I refused; I was not stupid enough to stick around places filled with creeps. I was not going to become another statistic of murdered and assaulted girls who were blamed for simply walking outside.
My feet carried me through the streets without direction, automatically knowing the way home. I was lucky to have escaped the cops then, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t find me again. So, despite the stitch in my side and the burn in my lungs I refused to stop running, all the way back to the safety of my apartment and my sisters.
Kaida
Today was the perfect day to run away from all the bullshit of life and let the sweet agony of my aching limbs remind me exactly who the hell I was. The mood I had woken up in was going to be pushed down to the depths of my subconscious and never allowed to escape. I would force today to be better than it currently was.
With each slap of my worn Nike’s on the rough concrete, I slowly retreated into the calm space in my mind, that allowed me to behave peacefully around others. Each thud against the floor burned away the stress inside my veins and filled my body with a false sense of control that I so desperately needed.
I had jogged lightly around the block four times already and yet there was still plenty more I could do. My life consisted of nothing at the moment but my sisters and PTSD, and because of that I absolutely loved running, even if neither of my sisters understood why I needed it. Or why the sweet ache of burning muscles was good enough to quell my dark spirit for just a few hours.
Dari would have preferred death over running, and Laina was far more interested in cooking or reading to ever spend time outdoors. Not that I would ever dare complain; Laina’s food was to die for even with the minimal ingredients we could afford. When the day finally came that we were able to buy the best food in the world I knew she would flourish with her talents, and I would relish in the opportunity to gorge on those perfect treats.
Twelve PM, one thousand four hundred and thirty steps.
My body slowed down as the clock struck twelve, my brain letting me know it was now the end of my run for the morning. I knew the time, number of steps and the route perfectly and despite being able to carry on, I had to end it here. The ground would have to break and swallow me whole before I dared stray from my routine by choice.
This morning when I had just begun a man had approached me, his pretty green eyes and charm no doubt usually enough to cause a woman to pause, but I had ignored him with a wave of my hand, refusing to even stop and take my headphones out and hear what he was yelling at me.
I didn’t care what he wanted, though no doubt it was some sort of charity ploy, I would not stray from my routine. It probably didn’t help his cause that he was a man, and I hadn’t trusted men in a long time on account of their fundamental lack of boundaries.
Okay, not all men, but enough.
The rest of my run went without issues, and I had rather enjoyed the Eminem album I had been blasting into my ears. I loved music and wished more than anything I had the balls to go see some of my favourite artists live. But even the thought of standing in the dirty stadium surrounded by strangers standing too close, sent me into a panic. No, a live concert would never do. I was better off far away from all that mess.
Three deep breaths were all I was allowed at the end of my run, before I continued walking on, grabbing the door to the café below o
ur apartment and heading inside to the register on the left.
The café was nice despite the lack of size. The walls were a calming shade of navy blue and the furniture mahogany and worn. It looked like the sort of place you could sit in for hours, curled up with a good book and listening to the music of the rain.
The air was filled with the scent of various coffees, and I sniffed them deeply, whilst I braided my long black hair again, annoyed with the way it had fallen loose during my run. The one strand of hair would never quite go right, and it was absolutely the bane of my existence.
I might cut it off soon. Or dye it. Just something to spice things up.
“Hey baby, how are you today?” Pablo Costa, the elderly Spanish gentleman who owned the café and our apartment with his husband, greeted me the same as he did every day with a bright smile on his tanned face and a whole lot of love.
“I'm well thank you, how are you and Marco?” I replied the same, never once straying with anything but a polite response even if I wanted much more.
Pablo was the kind of guy who would have listened and sympathised if I had told him I felt like crap. I could have mentioned the cut I had on my thigh that was stinging me still, or the fact the voices in my head had been getting worse lately.
CONVICTION OF THE DAMNED: SUPERNO ACADEMY BOOK ONE Page 1
