18 the locker

Ella looks at me, signifying that we're ready for phase two of our plan.

She walks towards the old man, a determined expression on her face. I could see the masked fury in her eyes simmering as she rummaged in her health kit. She finally finds what she was looking for, a syringe filled with some clear liquid.

I smile, knowing that this is my cue.

I pin the flailing man to the bed. He kicks me in several places, definitely leaving some dark bruises on my shin. However, I manage to ignore the sharp pain shooting throughout my body, as I pin him and tie him to his headboard. Curses fly out the man's mouth, a lot of it based on the fact about how Ella was a whore and that I am one too because I am helping her. Prepared for all of this, I grab his bed sheet and rip a piece from it. I quickly gag him with the help of it, his muffled screams still audible.

I glance at Ella, wondering about how she feels when I am doing this to a man that she was once in love with. Contrary to my expectation, she looked calm, as if she was just watching a soap opera. Her eyes were dark, masking some emotion that I knew I wouldn't want to witness. A shiver runs down my spine as she stares back at me, looking like a lifeless doll. Her pale complexion made her look like a poltergeist, her pretty dress adding to it.

I would've believed it if anyone told me that she was a Victorian ghost.

Of course, I am going off track again. Ella grabs the syringe, her knuckles white from gripping the syringe way too hard. She grabs it like a knife, her anger finally surfacing. She looked murderous, as she brings down the syringe to the man's throat. My blood runs cold, worried that if she administered the anesthetic wrong, she'd end up killing the man. I hurriedly grab her hand, just as she brings down the syringe on the man.

"Lena! Let go of me.", she yells, tears running down her cheeks.

Her earlier murderous rage now turns into hysteria. The reality of what I asked her made me feel terribly guilty, knowing that I was wrong. I shouldn't have asked for her help. Especially when her help could potentially kill her boyfriend.

Well, that's what I think could happen if an anesthetic could do if applied carelessly.

"Listen, Ella. If you don't come to your sense right now, you could kill Jonas. You love him, don't you?" I asked, yelling to ensure that I get through her dazed state.

"Yes.", she sobs, her tears spilling down onto the old man's shirt.

The man stares at us both, confused by the sequence of events. He tries shaking off his bounds, however in vain. The bed rattles due to his efforts, ignoring all of Ella's words. But upon hearing Ella's confession, his eyes widen in surprise, warm with emotion.

I release the man's gag, letting him talk.

"You love me?" he asks, surprised by her words.

She nods, still crying.

"Then why are you-" he begins, before Ella cuts him off.

"Jonas, I loved you. I stopped loving you the second you hurt my sister. That was when I knew that you were not human.", she says coldly, her voice devoid of any sort of emotions, whether it be sadness or anger.

The switch in her mood takes Jonas by shock, his face contorted with confusion. "But I did that to get-", he begins before I say, "Enough is enough, Jonas. You are a terrible person. Whether you come to terms with it, it's not my concern. What I need right now is the mine papers. Tell me where it is and I'll let you live.", I say, going off-script.

Ella being in a vulnerable disposition didn't seem to mind that I went off-script. I continue confidently, "Jonas, you are holding onto a mine that doesn't belong to you. We can sue you, you know?" I say.

"But you won't. And you guys can't. You all are broke, right? That's why you want the mine right?" he asks taunting.

"No, actually. We are well-off. Enough to sure you, at least. The only reason we haven't yet is due to sentimental reasons.", I say, contempt pouring out every syllable of mine.

"Oh really?" he says, struggling against the restraints. "Well, you aren't getting anything from me. I know you won't kill me. I will die with this knowledge. You'd never know where the papers are if you kill me.", he says, smirking despite the position he's in.

"Oh no! Poor me! I never thought of that.", I say, in mocking despair. "It's almost as if I don't want to kill you.", I say, bringing my hands to my mouth, in fake surprise.

He begins laughing maniacally, his laugh resonating in the empty room. Ella, now better, looks at me in confusion as she registers that I haven't followed the plan properly. I assure her through a look, knowing that she's panicking and blaming herself for this.

She looks at me doubtfully, her expression asking questions that she couldn't say out loud. I nod assuringly, knowing that this won't be enough to ensure she doesn't begin hyperventilating.

"Then what do you plan on doing with me, Lena?" the old man asks, his smile not faltering.

"Something that would make you wish that you died instead.", I say, smiling evilly.

To be honest, I didn't plan on doing much with him. Our original plan consisted of us trying to inject him with an anesthetic and ensure that he thinks that he's going to die. After all, fear is much more torturous than death itself. However, I managed to give myself away, my heart taking over my body. I forgot to think about the implications of giving myself away.

Maybe I am going to resort to physical torture. Give him a taste of his own medicine.

But I think Ella wouldn't approve of it. She'd probably think that doing so would make us no better than him. I mean, she's got a point, but in this position, that seems like the only good option. Now that I think about it, I don't think that I can torture another person with my bare hands.

So what am I going to do?

I can't let him just go. He will definitely try to harm us once he gets out of those binds. That is not what neither of us wants.

Wait. I could lie that the anesthetic is a rare drug that causes pain or something. That could work. But I'll have to get Ella to play along without raising suspicion.

"Old man. Tell us where the papers are. I promise I'll let you go unharmed.", I try bargaining again.

"Over my dead body, you whore.", he spits.

I can't say I expected anything less from him. Okay fine, I'll fib.

"Well, I am left with no choice but to inject this into you.", I say, indicating to the syringe in Ella's hand.

"What the hell do you take me for? That's just saline water. I wasn't born yesterday.", he says, laughing loudly.

"Believe whatever you want.", I say, laughing along with him. "This drug is said to induce pains unimaginable to mankind. I managed to steal this from Father's study.", I fib.

My dad's not even in the pharmaceutical industry. But he doesn't know that, does he? I smirk at my small victory, as fear builds up behind his eyes. However, he manages to maintain a straight face, despite sweat pouring from his body.

Good. My plan is going smoothly.

"Do whatever you want, you bitch. You aren't getting anything from me.", he yells.

I'm surprised Mother hasn't come searching for me. This man's yells are not something that anyone can ignore, especially in a house where the sound carries really far. This is really strange.

I gesture to Ella to inject it into his body, to which she nods firmly. Good, she's playing along. She approaches the man whose facade now crumbles. He begins shrieking for his life, begging, praying, pleading. His screams could be heard from the opposite side of the earth, disregard anywhere in the house.

"So what do you think, Jonas? You're going to open your mouth or not?" I say, managing to maintain my composure. However, I was screaming on the inside, terrified if he'd die due to fear or something. I mean he's old, and just had surgery. It's not too far-fetched to fear something that could possibly happen. Sweat drips down my body, despite my cool expression. I hope he doesn't notice how nervous I am. If he does, he can exploit it and getaway. I know it is a weakness of mine.

Thankfully he was too busy yelling out his lungs to notice my very obvious discomfort. I shout back, my voice shriller and louder than his.

"SHUT THE HELL UP, OLD MAN!" I scream.

He looks at me, taken aback by my reaction. He stops screaming, blinking confusedly.

"Good. Now tell me where the papers are.", I say coldly.

Before he could open his mouth, Father bursts into the room.

I knew it. The old man was way too loud. I shouldn't have removed his gag. I mentally facepalm myself, knowing that I messed up big time.

"Lena! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" Father booms. I swear the bed rattled by the ferocity of his voice.

I shudder, knowing that this is going to be really hard to get out of.

"Father, I can explain.." I begin.

"Lena. Nothing can excuse you tying and... IS THAT A GAG? I did not raise such a heartless daughter.", he says, disappointed by my actions.

I look at my feet, guilty by my actions. He does have a point. I let my emotions take over me, doing things that I would've never done. I realize my mistake, despite a small part of me still believing that the man deserved everything that happened to him.

"I am sorry, Father.", I say, meaning some of it.

"Why did you do this? Oh wait, let me guess. You want the fucking mine papers, don't you?", Father spits at me angrily.

I nod silently, knowing that whatever I say, Father wouldn't understand. He doesn't realize the extent of my desperation nor does he know about Jess's demands. He has no idea about Mr. Val and how his son is my friend. Was. Was my friend.

I sigh inwardly as Father launches into a lecture about how this is morally incorrect and that I'd rot in hell for being so heartless.

Tell me something I don't know Father.

"If you had told me where the papers were I wouldn't have done all this.", I mutter under my breath.

Fathers eyes widen as he says," What did you just say!?",

"I said that none of this would've happened if you just told me where the papers were.", I yell in frustration.

"Lena.." he sighs. "Your grandfather is a terrible man. Both my father and your mother's. It's not safe for you to get involved with them.", he says softly. "We love you, Lena. Your mother and I. We would never put you in harm's way. That's why we hid it from you.", he says sorrowfully.

Despite his sad expression, his eyes glinted. He's still keeping something from me. Huh.

Parents.

"Father, stop with the it's-all-for-you act.", I say. "Tell me where the papers are.", I say, looking at the old man.

He doesn't open his mouth, which was now drawn in a thin line. He keeps his lips firmly pressed, indicating that he's not going to give things away anytime soon. I sigh, clutching my hair in frustration.

"Now if either of you doesn't tell what you're hiding, I'll sue both of you. Blood relative or not.", I yell angrily.

"Lena.." my father begins while the old man just glared at the wall behind me, ignoring everything that I said.

"I swear I'll hand it over to you. Just give me some time.." Father says, almost pleading.

"Father, respectfully, I don't have the time. I need it right now.", I say, ignoring the fact that I sound like an absolute brat.

"Fine." Father sighs.

The old man's eyebrows raise suspiciously, probably thinking how Father knew where it was. After all, father has been here for what? Around thirty-six hours? How could anyone possibly find the papers in such a huge house like his?

"How do you know?" the old man smirks confidently, as if sure that Father would never find it.

"Aren't the papers in that one painting? You know, the supposed original?", Father says, smiling wickedly.

The old man's eyes bulge out of his skull, an alarmed expression on his face. "How do you-" he begins, when my father says, "Ella. She gave it away.", he says.

"How did I give it away?" Ella asks confused by Father's words. I listen on curiously as to why Father suspects the painting to be the papers' location.

"You see, the original has a brighter wash of colors. Not just that, the original is in my family home.", Father says, smiling casually.

The old man's jaw drops wide open, just like the rest of us listening to his words. He knew all along?! I gasp in awe and say, "But why didn't you say anything?" I ask.

"Well, no one asked me.", Father shrugs.

I glance at Ella, her eyes wide with worry. Did we go through all of this for nothing?! Why didn't Father mention it earlier? I wouldn't have had to do any of this. I wouldn't have had to push Ella to do such traumatizing things. I wouldn't have had to commit such criminal-like acts.

I let out a sob, and rush out of the room. I feel someone following me and I presume it is Father and I continue down the hall, down to my room. I hurry in and lock the room, crying my heart out. I hear continuous knocking on my door, a woman's voice yelling to let her in.

Ella. She followed me.

Despite my affection for her, I remain silent, my emotions taking over me. I sob and sob, Ella's cries drowned out by my cries. Guilt washes over me as the seriousness of my situation hit me. I realize how bad of a person I am, hurting a defenseless old man who just had surgery. That makes me NO better than him.

Am I really a bad person?

Am I just as bad as the old man? Does it make me any better than the person I despise so much? Is being a good person not so good after all?

I sob and sob, snot dripping down my face. [I'm an ugly crier okay?] After what felt like half a decade, I rise from my emotional breakdown. I wipe my tears away.

I don't care if I am a "bad person". I did this because of the terrible things Jonas did to Ella and Mother's mother. These aren't things that are supposed to be excused. Who am I to be a judge of that?

Well, I am nobody. But I want to be somebody. That's why I am doing this.

I quickly walk out, Ella nowhere to be found. I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss her. I miss Jess. I miss Elijah. All of them were somebody. They mattered to me. They still do.

However, certain events led me to realize what they felt about me. I am talking about Jess.

And Elijah.

They were both my friends. Both of whom I enjoyed spending time with. Both whom I trusted full-heartedly. Betrayal hurts so fucking badly. Especially when they matter so much to you.

I sigh. Thinking about them is not going to get me anywhere. However, getting that wretched paper might get me somewhere at least. I storm downstairs, my eyes quickly scanning the walls. I finally find the painting and I tear it down. Anger and frustration being the driving force of my actions, I rummage for a sign of the existence of a locker in the torn wallpaper.

I tear down the already torn wallpaper, ignoring the fact that I am making a huge mess. I find a latch, neatly hidden behind the wallpaper. I sigh in relief as I had just begun overthinking the fact that Father could have possibly lied to me.

I wrench it open, only to find yet another layer of security. A lock. Which required a key. I let out a muffled scream, frustrated by how everything is working against me.

I try opening it with the help of a hairpin, however much to my dismay, it does not work. I begin banging at the door with all my might, despite being aware of the fact that it won't help me. Soon, I realized that this isn't going to get me anywhere. I calm down, regaining my composure. I carefully look around, knowing that the key has to be somewhere near.

Either that, or the key is with the old man.

I doubt that though. He looked genuinely terrified when he knew that Father was aware of the paper's location. It might've been a ploy, but I doubt it. That man just had a traumatizing event occur to him. He can't think of such intricate lies, no less manage to deliver it with such emotion.

I search the wall, searching for a chink in its smooth surface. Upon finding nothing, I search under the carpet. Again, no success. I sigh in frustration. I seem to going in circles. Where would anyone hide a key? Especially on a staircase? It's almost impossible to find it.

I calm myself down, knowing that getting all emotional will hinder my observation. I look around, scanning the vicinity for a potential hiding spot. My eyes land on a portion of staircase where the railing seemed to be discolored.

Strange.

I approach it, my hands trembling as I try pushing the surface. The whole house is on the verge of crumbling. One wrong step and I'll be going to my designated spot in hell. The surface surprisingly gives away, opening a box like structure. I find a key nestling in the box, on a bright red cushion. The key was beautiful and intricately designed, looking ancient yet somehow brand new.

I smile at my small success, now confident that my papers are just one click away from me.

I hurriedly push in the key into the lock. It goes in smoothly and comfortably settles in the keyhole. This is it. I'm so near. My heart thuds heavily in my chest as I twist the key slowly. My palm lose grip due to sweating too much, the key slipping in my hand. I wipe my hands on my jeans and try again.

It opens. Finally! I jump in pure ecstasy, grateful that all my efforts are getting rewarded. I quickly scan the contents of the locker.

No papers. No documents.

There was just cash and some gold in there. I sigh in frustration. So close, yet so far. I run my hands through the panels, praying that there's a compartment that's not visible to the naked eye.

I press the bottom panel and it gives way to expose the papers. THE MINE PAPERS! Finally! I grab it and quickly head upstairs. Chills run down my spine as I glance at it.

My name highlights the first line, showing that I am the rightful owner of this mine. I could become a millionaire with a blink of an eye. I really can pay for my college tuition on my own AND move out with the money that this mine is worth.

That's if Mr. Val didn't exist.

He does unfortunately, so I won't be able to live out any of my fantasies.

I sigh. Well, that's a worry for another day.