Confessions of a Bitch

Gold Roses and Lilac Dresses

- Eight weeks later -

Things are slowly returning back to normal -at least they're trying to. Dad spends most of his time at home now, and refuses to talk about his twin. Mum hasn't made much mention about him as well. I suppose it's their own way of moving on.

My status at school upgraded from Bitch to Survivor, since day one of my return. Victoria isn't doing so bad herself. Things are still a tad awkward between Mr Gold and myself, but to be honest, I couldn't give two shits about him.

Catching up on all our missed work is a pain in the arse, but it's a small price to say. After a session with the Guidance Counsellor, both Victoria and I, lodged in a Stress Form to the Education Department in case our results took a turn for the worse in the WACE exams.

I barely catch a glimpse of David at school. From all the gossip I've heard around the place, his casts were removed three weeks ago, and the scratches on his neck have upped his bad boy and sex-god status. I bet he's fucking some girl right now.

I've tried my best to move on from the whole Viper nightmare. Keeping myself busy offers some relief, but it never lasts long. Sometimes at night, whilst sitting on my bed, I feel someone is outside my window, watching me. When my phone vibrates with a phone call or text message, my heart skips a bit. At times I think of Nathan and where he might be. I even think about the hooded figure who aided my escape from the old Police Station.

We buried Bob and Eliza together last month. Mum was a mess, but I managed to keep myself together. I knew Bob would hate to see me cry at his own funeral. At times when I miss him the most, I go through my old photo album, and look at the pictures we took together. He shouldn't have died that way.

Isabella's dead. That's the way everything should be. Sometimes I wish I was the one who snuffed the life out of her. She was right in front of me the whole time, under the disguise of Lily: the girl who wanted to move to the big city one day, and become an actress. Her diamond tattoo should have been a huge giveaway when I first noticed it.

It seems I overlook things too easily.

We're in the middle of having dinner one Sunday evening, when mum comes up with the idea of having a small belated ball, since my first one ended in a disaster. I instantly oppose it. "No way. I'm not going through another ball again. One is more than enough to last me a life time."

Mum frowns and places her fork back on her plate, beside her mash potatoes and rare steak. "I think of it as an opportunity," she says. "You could finally have some fun. And besides, Victoria missed out on your Year Twelve ball."

"But -"

Dad butts into the conversation. "Think of it as a way of making it up to her."

"Fine," I mutter under my breath. Mum grins and dad offers a small smile, before sipping some red wine.

Happiness never lasts long in cases like mine. It's easy to get through the day, when I'm busy trying to get my grades up, or planning my little ball with mum and Victoria. Once the night comes, there's nowhere to run and hide.