What’s your name? I ask myself.
“Vivenne Diamond.”
How old are you?
“Nineteen.”
What is your year of birth?
“1995.”
I finish brushing my hair and place the blue comb on the bathroom table, before pulling my hair into a ponytail. Dark tendrils fall into the sink, and I look away. It’s been a strange process having black hair; but I’ve dealt with it. I apply my mascara and continue my daily mantra.
What happened to your mother?
“She died a couple of years ago.”
You must miss her.
“I do.”
I momentarily glance at the worn piece of paper stuck to the mirror, and sigh. The words: The Grisly Fate of The Winter Family, is written in bold, across the paper. At the bottom of the title is a black and white photograph, of what was once my home.
I undo my bun, and begin plaiting my hair. If I think hard enough about the paper, I’ll remember the exact words on it. Liev couldn’t stop grinning when he found the newspaper. “They even think the girl is you,” he said, as he took a slug of whiskey. I’ve never asked about the girl who became Amanda Winter in death. There are no need for questions —at least, not here.
I finish plaiting my hair just as a knock sounds on the bathroom door. I quickly remove the piece of paper from the side of the mirror and place it in the cupboard, beneath my pads and tampons. Liev —I mean dad, would never go looking there. I readjust my floral print blouse, before opening the door.
“You look lovely, Vivienne,” he says, as he scrutinises my outfit.
“Thank you.”
“Are you ready to leave?” I nod my head. Dad smiles and takes my arm. “You’ll have a lovely time today.” I don’t reply. He opens the front door, and for the first time since we arrived here, I leave the house.
As I enter the vintage car in the driveway, I can’t help but notice the motorbike riders entering the neighbourhood. It seems dad is rebuilding his empire.
Without further ado, dad steps on the accelerator, and we begin the drive to the outdoor cinema. From the calculations on my bedroom wall, it’s been five months since I left Geraldton. It’s been five months since Amanda Winter died in the tragic house fire. I look out the open window, and stare at the clean streets and colourful houses, painted in pink, blue, green and yellow. The strong smell of spices waft into the car. I see mothers with their children on the street, and locals on vintage bicycles.
“Where is this place?” I ask.
“You don’t need to know now, Vivienne.” He replies. I place a loose tendril behind my ear, and continue staring at the foreign world outside my window. I know what dad is doing. He’s not sure of my loyalty, so he has kept me in the dark. Taking me out into the open is the first step. But he’s smart. He knows I won’t try anything stupid here. I’m alone in a new place, with a new identity. I have been locked up for months, with old newspaper clippings and blue walls as company. I should be mad by now.
We arrive at the outdoor cinema, and take our seats on the grass, behind everyone else. It’s almost three thirty in the afternoon, and I watch with keen eyes as people sit on the grass in front of us, with their picnic baskets and rugs in tow. I make sure no eye contact is made with anyone. Dad and I, only brought a bottle of water with us, just in case.
The movie starts at three forty five, and I hide my frown. It’s a foreign language film with English subtitles. Great! The next ninety minutes is spent twiddling my thumbs, and trying to keep up with the sensual movie. At times I sneak quick glances at dad, but it’s hard to gauge his reaction, because of the sunglasses he wears.
When the movie finishes, dad decides we’ll buy our supper at one of the many food caravans in the area. He picks the one at the other end of the open field, and I follow closely behind. As we get nearer to the caravan, I read the elaborate sign placed on top of the vehicle: Aladdin’s Lebanese Foods. There’s a small queue for the food, so dad and I wait at the back of the line for our turn.
It is at that moment, I notice him, standing beside a small bench, smoking a cigarette. His hair is no longer short. It’s long and in dreadlocks. He has even grown a beard to hide his face. He notices my stare and gives a sly smile. I do the same.
He finishes his cigarette a few seconds later, and begins walking away. I wait a few minutes, before tapping dad’s shoulder. Together, we lock eyes on our target, and leave the food queue. Supper can wait.
Our target leads us straight into an alley way, and I grin. Everything is perfect. I quicken my pace, and tap his shoulder. He stops abruptly and turns around.
“Hey, it’s you again —”
“Remember me?”
He looks confused. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Poor Nathan,” I coo, “how did it feel to be the sideline boy?”
Nathan does not have the time to react. Dad grabs him by the head, and slams it into the brick wall over and over again. The sounds of his grunts, and head cracking on the wall, reverberates in the small alley way.
Nathan dies too quickly. It’s a disappointment.
Dad dumps his body on the ground, and takes a step back. “I’ve been waiting months to do that.”
“Mmm…” I dig my hands in Nathan’s pocket and take his packet of cigarettes and lighter. “You looked stupid with the dreadlocks,” I mutter as I take one final look at the bloodied mess on the walls and floor.
I light a cigarette as dad and I walk out of the alley way. I missed my nicotine.
The End
A/N: Well, this has been a really long journey. I just wanted to say thank you all so much for your endless support. It means so much to me XD Thank you once more, and thank you for getting the story past a 100,000 reads! That’s amazing, so thank you again :)
And no, there won’t be a sequel. This is it.
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