Page 51 of Armor
And then a day later, the super was moving all her stuff out of her apartment.
She was found mutilated on the side of the road.
Was it sad?
Yes.
But did she probably deserve it?
Also, yes.
Year Seven - Age 27
“Hey there, princess, how are you doing?” My dad asked during our weekly FaceTime calls.
I shrugged, “Doing okay. We lost one last night.”
He winced, “Sorry.”
I smiled, “It’s okay. He’s in a better place.”
And he was. He’d been brought up from the emergency room after a neighbor rescued him, having witnessed his father beating him.
He took his last breath at zero two forty in the morning.
“Any word?” he asked.
I knew who he was talking about.
I shook my head as I bit my lip and tried to stop the tears that were threatening to spill down my cheeks. “No.”
God, when will it get easier?
He sighed, “I’m sorry.”
I shook my head, “Don’t be. He’s out there somewhere. One day he’ll be back.”
“You're too young to be like that, princess. You need to live.”
I smiled, “Reverse the spots. Put you and Mom in my place. What then?”
He sighed, “I’d be doing what you're doing. Going through the motions but not living.”
“Exactly.”
“I find him, I’m kicking his ass,” my mom called out.
“Yeah, kicking his behind!” Gage yelled.
Dad chuckled.
Mom growled.
***
The creepy guy who lived in the apartment next to mine is gone.
***
