Another victim
The next morning, Lyndon drove me back to Arbor before he’d gone home to Baclayan as what he said last night. I didn’t waste time and immediately prepared myself to school and let Gerard drove me to Argao where the campus is.
And now, I was scorning while staring at my test papers. The result of the exam came out and I was not satisfied with it.
Where did I go wrong? Is there a number I didn’t answer? Or are there instructions I didn’t follow in the test? I sighed. I did everything but why?
Reun, my seatmate, came up to me and looked at the paper I was holding. “Oh. Just one more point and you’ll pass, Larica,” he said when he saw my score. I became more depressed.
Yep. It would have been just one more point but it hasn’t been given to me. Annoying! I looked at Reun badly. “Tell me, who checked it?”
“Block D maybe.”
“Block D?” I frowned. My eyes squinted and I gasped. “I should ask the one who corrected it!” I yelled and even raised the examination paper.
“Hey, what’s your plan? You might be embarrassed. Just review your answers. Here is Nemero’s paper. He perfected Fluid Mechanics.”
I raised my brow. “Perfect score?” I quickly picked up the paper he was holding and looked at the score. My vision got darker. Where did Nemero get his answer?
Reun laughed. “Isn’t because of Vine you stay up late and didn’t study for exams?”
I frowned. I didn’t want to blame Vine so I blame myself because I didn’t study harder. I reviewed the wrong answer and there was nothing wrong with it. And my score was still seventy-four over a hundred.
I grumpily returned the paper to Reun and dejectedly sat back in my chair. What now? This was a final paper that I need to pass! I looked at the wall clock and sighed, knowing that five more minutes and it’s break-time. I planned to visit my Prof at the Faculty to ask for pardon.
In the end, I went to the Faculty alone. I walked into the building and went to his desk only to halt when I saw Jamaica also talking to Prof. Huh. What was she doing here? It looked like there’s a problem with her score too, eh? I secretly rejoiced at her misfortune but upon remembering my reason why am seeking Prof, I pouted and looked away.
It’s not right to laugh at others when I myself got the same problem too. It’s like slapping myself twice.
I just waited for Jamaica to finish. When she stood and turned around to leave, our eyes met. She sneered at me before I could speak. Uh. That’s rude. I just ignored her and walked closer to Prof.
I just explained to him and asked for a chance. In the end, he gave me a special task. I am supposed to go to the Education building and sit in for a day in the BSED Science lecture. I will take a quiz and if I pass he will give me a chance. He even joked that if I got two points short of my score, he would not give me that task and let me fail in his subject.
Well, not a good joke.Content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.
I was thankful to his consideration but the problem? It was Jamaica’s class.
Whatever. If Jamaica would insist to seek trouble with me, there’s no way that I won’t retaliate.
“What did he instruct you to do?”
I cussed and clutched my chest. I looked at Jamaica in surprise. She was standing by the door of the Faculty and I was sure she waited for me. I frowned. “Are you looking for trouble?” I asked and passed her by.
She raised her eyebrows and followed me. “I heard you asking for a chance. That man is hard to please so what did he instruct you to do?” she asked again.
I turned and looked to see if Prof was there. Fortunately, there was no one. I beckoned Jamaica to follow me. Her eyes narrowed but she didn’t say anything. She followed and I smirked.
I stopped behind the Faculty building which was also near the Engineering building and turned around to face Jamaica.
“Gonna sit in your block for one day,” I said.
“What?”
I folded my arms and smiled at her. “So don’t seek trouble from now on. There’s a saying, a classmate for a day is a classmate for a lifetime.”
She winced at my words and sighed. “I’ll attend your class too.”
We were silent for a moment and when what she said sank in, my eyes widened. “You’ll also sit in my class?”
She nodded and I was at a loss for words. It’s okay for us to be classmates for one day, but two days? My face darkened. “In that case, let’s have a truce!”
Jamaica raised her eyebrows. “We’re not at war, aren’t we?”
“No? You always fight me because of my idols. If we’re not at odds, then what do our relationship looks like?”
She looked away. I saw hatred passed in her eyes and I didn’t think that it was directed at me. “Do you really hate Vine that much?” I asked.
I asked if it was directed at Vine because she always had this hatred in her eyes when it comes to my favorite boy band. When talking about book authors, Jamaice’s reaction was not that big. So I assumed that she didn’t hate all my idols but only Vine.
She looked at me before looking away again. “My little sister died because of them.”
It took me seconds before I realized what she meant. My eyes widened. “Don’t accuse Vine of such things!”
Jamaica laughed. Bitterness was evident in her voice. “You think that I hate Vine and when I tell you the reason, you’ll get mad? So why did you ask me?”
My fist clenched. “Vine will not do such heinous crime!”
I bit my lips and looked away after saying those words. Suddenly, the scene of what happened that night in Boljoon came to my mind. But that was the only incident that Levi’s involved in a crime. And nothing happened to Ariel, although I didn’t know the reason why he did that.
I still believe in Vine’s innocence in this matter.
Jamaica smirked. “No? Someone stabbed her during Vine’s concert.”
“If that’s the case, then it’s impossible for Vine to commit such an act. They’re busy on stage!” I frowned. “Are you the authorities investigating?”
She looked at me for a moment before looking away. I even saw how her eyes watered. “Yes. But they can’t trace the suspect. And… There was no motive to stab her.” Jamaica sniffed. “They said it was an accident, but how come it’s an accident if she was stabbed three times!”
Then she wailed in silent. Seeing her cry made me sympathize with her.
She seemed to read my thoughts so she continued. “She was seen outside the concert venue. Two blocks away in a dark alley so no one saw her while dying. I just know that she was stabbed during the concert because of the text message she sent me.”
“Text messages?” I frowned.
Jamaica nodded. “The text was this: Help. It hurts.”
“How did you know she was inside the concert venue?”
“She recorded a video of Vine, three minutes before a text message entered my inbox.”
My eyebrows met. “A lot can happen in those three minutes. She can go out for a while or go with an acquaintance.”
Jamaica shook her head. “In the video, it was too crowded. She can’t go outside in the span of three minutes.”
“Then, how did she get stabbed without the people around noticing?”
It was an impossible feat, right?
Seeing that I didn’t fully believe her speculation, tears continued to roll down her cheeks. “The autopsy told us that she was dr*gged. Ec*tasy and coca*ne. Maybe… Maybe she…” Jamaica closed her eyes tightly. “She was drugged before she was stabbed three times!” She burst into tears. “Not only those dr*gs, but the authorities found some evidence that she was paralyzed. She was injected two dr*gs at the same time! How can they do that to her?”
I pursed my lips while watching her cry in misery. I wanted to give her my sympathy but I realized something. “Don’t play with my emotions. I’m not emotionally weak,” I warned.
Earlier, I hadn’t noticed it. But when she cried harder, I realized that she’s manipulating my emotions to make me believe her words. This way of manipulation was too sinister.
Only then did she stop crying. She smiled, wiped her wet cheeks and looked at me. “What? You still don’t believe me?”
I raised my eyebrows. “If she was paralyzed, how was she able to text you?” I asked the loophole in her story.
She stared at me, lips trembling. There’s no other emotion in her eyes except horror. “Ten minutes after that first message, another text message entered my inbox.” She swallowed hard. “And the text message was… Don’t tell mother, sister.”
I frowned. “And you didn’t tell your parents about the text messages because of this?”
She shook her head. “No… No.” And swallowed again. Horror and panic were plastered in her face. Those were not fake emotions and I knew that because her teeth were chattering in fear. “She’s not the one who used her phone to send me those messages.”
“What do you mean?”
“She never addresses Mommy because she calls our mom as mommy. And she will never address me sister because she calls me old sis.” She stared hard at me. “It’s the killer who texted me, Rishel,” she whispered to me and looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping.
“And a genius perhaps,” she continued. “The killer deleted the text message in the inbox of my sister’s phone. No other fingerprints were found on my little sister’s belongings. And nothing was found in the autopsy indicating that my sister fought back! As if she was willing to be stabbed by that killer.” Hatred flashed in her eyes.
My eyes squinted. “Are you sure you want to know the truth of this matter?” I asked her.
She was stunned by my question. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t play dumb. You hate your sister.”
Jamaica was speechless for a few seconds. After a while, she suddenly laughed out loud. Her tear-stained face was full of malice. “Of course…” She nodded. “I hate her. So what?”
I raised my eyebrows. “So, why do you want to know the truth?”
She sneered. “You won’t ask why I hate my sister?”
“Wasn’t it just a cliche sibling jealousy and the likes. What’s the fuss?” I shrugged.
People are really unpredictable. One moment, they were affectionate and the next second, they will reveal their claws. Jamaica was a good example.
She laughed loudly again. “You know what? I like you. Why don’t we make friends?” she said.
“Friends? No thanks.”
She chuckled. Jamaica ran a finger through his tangled hair. “Yes, I hate my sister Jonaira. I hate her, her idols, her hobbies, her things, and everything about her. When she died, I didn’t grieve that much.”
“So… Why are you seeking the truth about her death?” I asked.
She pursed her lips. “I’m afraid that killer will run after me upon knowing that I receive those messages.” She sighed. “What’s even crazier, it all happened two months ago at Vine’s concert in Argao.”
My breath hitched. Two months ago, both I and Jamaica became witnesses to two different crimes. While she was not present in the crime scene, I, on the other hand, was there.