RULE NUMBER 8: Do not lie.
RULE BROKEN: Well, you can't really sum the lie into a simple amount of words. Not like all the other broken rule stories in this book. It takes someone who really witnessed the lie to give it justice, but it's just me.
It turns out, Ada was Aurelia. I think Aurelia's a pretty name, but no one else agrees. It reminds me of a princess with pretty blonde locks and a pink dress with laced sleeves and gold trimmings. To me, Aurelia will always be Ada. She will always be a Vierel and not a Helens, even though the name Vierel sends shivers down my spine.
I asked the police about everything that happened. After Ada was found dead, by me, I got hold of the police. Stefonie didn't see me peek into the room and see Ada lifeless on the bed with a gun in Stephanie's hand. She seemed too wrapped in silence and memories to realise what was going on. They arrested her and I was claimed to have found the murderer of two Helens.
It seems to me that Ada shouldn't have died this way. After all those years of being treated horribly, worthlessly, hit, blamed for, made a slave and a fool out of, she shouldn't have gone the way she did. In all honesty, I liked Ada. I really liked Ada. Despite everything that happened in her life, she was always smiling but nervous, she was always excited but anxious. When people say things come in black and white, Ada was the perfect shade of grey. Not too dark and not too light. Always balanced straight in the middle.
To put the lie into some sort of sentence, Ada had been lied to her entire life. She never lived in her child-hood home, she never had her true mother, she never had any outside friends. All she had was some boy. A boy that had blonde hair and brown sandals and white polo tops. A boy that taught her the alphabet and how to write and how to read. A boy that became her best friend and her only best friend.
A boy that wishes she was still alive. So they could hug, and he could feel her heart thudding against her rib cage, and her fast-paced breaths. So she could bury her face in the material of his top and let it grow damp and they could both wish that they were always just like that. Hugging. Never letting go of each other, but in the end, he had to. Even though he let go of her hug, she let get of her life.
- Written by Ezra in place of Ada.
The victim of a murder.
The daughter of a murderer who never really knew what time it was to lie.