Queens, New York.
4th December, 2020
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Onika's Pov
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Hatred and pain seems to be the only emotions that I felt these past few days, I hated not knowing who killed my brother and it pain me that I couldn't figure it out, in some ways I feel like I let him down and I hated that I felt that way.
I grew tired of playing cat and mouse, everyone seems to not fucking care while I'm here growing grey hairs at the age of 18, why did it seems like I'm the only one who cares?
I needed to find out who's responsible for my brother's death, and I'll stop at nothing until I finally know who the person was behind the gun.
Clearly Roosevelt wasn't doing her job well because she's still stuck on the fucking necklace, my necklace.
Oh how I wish the memories from that night can hit my like a wrecking-ball, I desperately needed to know and although I know Ty and Wayne held the answers I was tired of playing games, clearly they didn't want to tell me 'for my own protection'
I didn't even bother asking my father what happened that night because I know he'll just flat out ignore me; I swear he's the world's biggest asshole.
Why did I have to get drunk on that night?
"Ms Maraj" Detective Roosevelt voice snap me back into reality.
"For the last time, I don't know where my mother is" I roll my eyes. She's probably somewhere or a cruise or yacht either way I didn't care.
She huffs; I'm guessing this case has taken a toll on her by the bags under her eyes "How the hell don't you know where your mother is!" She snaps.
I shrug my shoulder "I. Don't. Know. Where. She. Is"
Detective Roosevelt leans over the coffee table and press her finger on thethe tape recorder to stop it from recording the rest of our conversation.
"Would you like to answer these questions down at the precinct?" She asks.
"If my daughter said she doesn't know where her mother is then she doesn't know" My father says coming out the kitchen with a glass of vodka in his hand.
Roosevelt turn her head towards him, "Do you perhaps know where your wife is?" She asks him.
He scoff, "I doubt she even knows where she is" He says making Roosevelt confuse. "My wife is a Daytime drinker" He finishes off.
"I guess you both have something in common" She points to the glass in his hand.
"Is that all detective?" My father asks taking a sip from his glass, looking at her.
She nods and begins standing up "If you get into contact with her please let her know that I'll like to have a chat" She says leaving her third card on the coffee table.
"I'll walk you on the way out" He says before following her to the door.
I let out a groan leaning back in the chair, this is a living hell.
"You're late for school" My father points out.
"Oh really dad? I didn't realize...Maybe the detective that was interrogating me made it slip my mind" I roll my eyes.
"Don't get smart with me!" He shouts.
I didn't bother to respond to him; instead I walk upstairs to collect my school bag... After mentally preparing myself, I walk out my house and into my car.
A part of mind told me not go to school but the obedient and rational part said to go because my grades are already dropping.
When have I ever listen to the obedient part of my brain? Exactly...never.
