I woke up the next day to find Bill still sleeping next to me. I didn't wake him up today; it would be a sin to do that. I headed over to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and descended to the living room. I was to tell the truth to my mother. My stomach had butterflies trapped in it as I imagined Mom breaking down in the kitchen, where she usually is.
The living room was still when I got there. The light blue walls were cold and unforgiving without my father there to light them up with his smile. I choked on tears. I didn't smell anything cooking, which was peculiar. My mom always made breakfast no matter what. Then I remembered last night. She must have been tired after cooking up such a feast.
The house was silent. I sat on the small two-seater couch and clicked on an old holovision. It was the only one that we could afford, but we never paid much attention to it anyway. The static sputtered before it showed me any video. The first channel showcased a commercial for the 'New and Improved: Evolution Games!'. As it said on the screen. It went like this:
"Are you rrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRrReaddy for an all-new...EVOLUTION GAMES!!!!" The fake audience in the back applauded in the back. Some of them were probably given more money to hoot and cheer. "Alright! Folks at home, this year the Grey Corp is making a generous addition to the event! They will be paying twenty thousand credits to each and every participant!"
"Interesting," I said aloud.
"What's interesting?" A voice came from behind me. Bill was already looking out the door, "And, how come there's no daily news out here?"
I answered promptly, "I'm not sure for the second one, and for the first one...You should see for yourself." I pointed to the holovision. Bill slid closer and knelt next to me. The commercial continued, "On top of that, the Grey Corp. also provides all participants with reduced price transportation and lodging! There is NO reason for YOU to NOT participate this year!!!" The announcer's voice died down before a clip of the previous games was being played.
Bill said, "That was interesting, indeed. I mean, twenty thousand for all those people? That man must be filthy rich."
I was lost in the holovision as I absently said, "Yeah."
*Thud* *Thud* *Thud*
Three knocks barraged the door in succession. I got up with Bill and opened it. There were three men in black suits. Black undershirts, black pants, black blazers, black sunglasses. "Do you need anything?" I ask.
One of the men in black answered, "The local mortuary sent us to tell you that your late father's burial has been set to take place next week."
The words 'late father' hurt a little inside. I replied, "Well, I know that you aren't here just for that. The mortuary doesn't hire...men with different taste." I chose my words carefully. The one on the right gave a meek smile.
"You are right. We are here to give you a settlement for your loss."
I replied, "Why?"
"One of our employees killed your father."
I was enraged, "You think settlement money is enough! We don't need your stupid pity. So get the hell out." The man stared at me with threatening eyes. I didn't give a shit. "Don't try to weigh my father's life with your judgment."
The three men looked at me with solemn expressions as they walked back. "How much is the settlement?" Bill spoke up.
I glared at him and seriously said, "Bill, don't even try."
The man that gave me a threatening look turned back and answered, "Two hundred and fifty thousand credits."
Bill beckoned him over and said, "I'll take it." The man brought out a piece of paper on a black pad and a pen.
"Sign here," he pointed to a dotted line, "it's a mutual agreement to make sure that you won't sue us at a later date."
I interrupted, "Bill, what the hell are you doing! You understand that you just admitted that our father is worth a mere two hundred and fifty thousand!"
Bill leveled his gaze and cooly said, "We don't have much. If we were to find jobs, then we need to money to get started. To have food on the table. To buy clothes, and treatment in case anything goes wrong. Did you think about any of this?" I stopped talking. I knew that I was beaten; I wouldn't admit it, but it was true. Bill signed off the paper and then handed it over to me. My hand shook when I wrote my name. The signature came out a little shaky, but it was waved off. The man brought out a suitcase. He handed it over to us and left.
We were both still at the doorsteps while the black limousine drove off, leaving a trail of whispy smoke that dissipated in an instant. We invited the suitcase inside and opened it. It was filled with credits. What shocker. I hauled it off to our room and hid it under one of the giant floorboards. The floor creaked as I walked on it. Everything was so quiet. Everything looked black and white. Everything smelled the same, felt the same. But, something was off. Something felt like it was ready to burst. Tension was rising, but I did not know where. I did not care.
I met Bill, again, on the living room sofa. I asked him, "You wanna tell Mom?"
Bill hesitated but said, "Yeah."
This time we both got up and went towards Mom's room. "George! Look over there!" Bill urgently pointed his finger at something on the ground. It was wedged in between the almost closed door and the wall. I peered closer to find that it was the newspaper from today! The title read: 'Murder of Henry Rigas'. It was decorated with our father's body on the front page picture. We both looked at each other before we sprinted towards our mom's room.
*BANG!*
We pushed the room's door so hard that it sounded like a bullet was fired. "MOM!" we screamed in unison.
But, it was too late.
We both saw the feet of our mother dangling mere inches above the ground. We held each other's hand and mustered up the courage to keep on looking up. Her legs were still as can be except for the slight moving when the wind blew through her window. Her skin was pale, and a blueish tinge was emerging slowly. Her chest was breathless. I finally gave up and started to cry. Tears blurred my mother's eyes as I looked into them. They were dead. Her eyes were dead. The noose around her neck only seemed to be getting tighter. Bill fell to the ground. His cries of anguish were met with my whimpers. He pulled at his hair and curled into a ball. I did the same. We both sat juxtaposed; weeping to the rhythm of each other's sobs.
I glanced at my mother once more. I traced her entire body with my eyes and found something held in her hand. I crawled closer until I noticed that it was a part of the newspaper. I gently lifted it out of her hand. I cried again. Her once warm touch was filled with a coldness that I had never felt. I pulled myself together. I need to be calm for Bill. We were the same age, but I had the responsibility to look after him.
I scooted near him and unfurled the small piece of paper that probably contained some bits of the article about Dad in it. When I read it, I couldn't believe my eyes. 'Henry Rigas, a notorious accountant, has finally been caught by a twist of his own fate. Formerly known for his accounting manipulation and many cases of fund embezzlement from various start-up companies.' A young man's picture came into view and a quote under him read, 'I was betrayed by Rigas. He said that he would take care of the financial shortcomings of the company that I put my blood and sweat into. But, he ran away with the money and threatened to tell my dealers that I had a criminal history!'
My eyes shone bright red. My dad would never do this. He wouldn't. He couldn't. They're all lying! My hands shook as I kept reading the article. There was more bullshit about Dad's involvement in the outer and middle sector gangs and even the mafia. More and more irrelevant interviews from lying bastards polluted the page. I crumpled it up. I ripped to shreds.
Bill was still crying by the wall. I will track down every single one of these bastards and kill them.
I dragged Bill out of the room and set him on the sofa. His eyes have dried up, and his ears left small trails of salt on his face. I asked him, "Bill. Get it together. We don't have anyone right now, except us. Here's what we're going to do: We take the money and transfer it evenly to two cards. We then hop on the transport and go to the inner sector. We're going to participate in the Evolution Games."
He looked at me with wide, tear-soaked eyes nodded his head. "I'll go pack for the both of us." I didn't say anything as he left.
My dad didn't commit those crimes. Somebody or something framed him, and I know it. A flashback of my dad telling me something before he died popped into my head. 'Gods can be slain. Manipulated evidence, corrupt officials, and twisted truths don't erase the truth. They only obscure it. Remember that, got it?' Something is wrong. And, I know it.