Slayer Stars

Z E R O

I REMEMBER VERY clearly, the fear everyone around me felt that day. Never did I believe I was capable of doing it, and neither did I want to.

It was coming close to the last week of the school year; I was sixteen years old then. At that point in my life, I tried so hard to silence the Voice that was my constant visitor.
Day and night, whenever, it was always there. Trying so hard to claw its way out of me - like a rat in a wall.

I spent the previous school break with my aunty/caretaker, Jan Loche; my father's cousin who works with the Bromly Homes that cater to people like me, the crazy ones. Years ago my father tried to make his way to her work, but succumb to his 'contidion'.

The same one I have.

Ever since then, Jan has taken care of me as best she could, considering who she had to help at the time. I wasn't a pleasant person.

But then again, neither was she.

The deal I made with her and the courthouse was that I attended special meetings with others like me in exchange for me to live on my own close to my school where Jan would visit often for checkups.

The meetings sucked, and we didn't really learn much. We'd sit and talk about our week and exchange thoughts...some couldn't.

The voice spoke in tounges around them and I nearly lost it a few times and demanded to be moved - which I was, thank god.

But getting back to what I was saying; I was late to school that day, as usual. Making my way to my locker that was only ever used as storage for my bag, a falling apart graffitied book I used for every subject, and a pen that ran out months ago I used for show.

It was a routine; take about two hours to get ready for the day - take my time walking two blocks towards school like I had all the time in the world with me - text all my best friends, such a dumb set of words. A lot of people liked me, can't say I know why now.

After that, I then meet up with my one and true best friend; Demmy Philmore.

We spoke about ev-er-ry thing.

She had pale brown hair and green eyes, I had black hair and blue eyes, so we looked the opposite. But we knew each other since pre-school, so I knew I could always rely on her for support or talk about things - but not the Voice, no one was ever going to know about it,

So I thought anyway.

Demmy brought up the photo competition to win a trip for a week in Rose Valley City - where the big-wigs are, the celebrities, and simply a city on the other end of the Highway only millionaires live and breathe - all expenses paid.

A dream come true and luxury you will never get unless we won the competition.

The rules were; it had to be natural landscape and lighting, to capture an emotion without the use of photoshopping. A hard thing to do on this side of the Highway.

The roads were never taken care of, car parks became a hazard with loose tarmac, and the buildings aged nicely with them. Nothing is fancy. So, capturing an emotion other than, 'I hate this place' or 'I can't go more than 5k in a vehicle without legal action of injury in a public shopping center' was going to be a challenge in itself.

We wanted so desperately to win and see the other side at least once in this lifetime. If she won, she would take me and if I won, if I had the chance to send mine in during Bromly visits, I would take her.

Besties.

She flipped her phone and showed me a copy of the image she sent in; it was of Laney Bridge, a ten-metre concrete and steel bridge gapping the drainage ditch that separated our side, to the expanded brand-new homes and shopping centers - like a discount Rose Valley in-the-making. Something about how the bridge only aged on our side blended both sides like a blur, a cool thing to take a photo of - we're all the same no matter where we are from, kind of thing.