I woke up and was immediately reminded of the fact that I have absolutely NOTHING. My name is Alisha Lewis and this is where I've been living.
That is, a strange woman wearing bright red glasses came to me.
"Are you Alisha Lewis?" She asked forwardly.
"Uh, yeah. Who are you?" I replied groggily.
"I'm Stephanie!" She chirped. "I need your help."
"With... what?" I asked confused
She paused. I looked at her for a minute, waiting for her answer. Two whole minutes later she replied "I know who killed your parents."
Silence.
I was silent. Shocked. My parents' case had been open for 3 years and the police had nothing.
"Who?" I asked quietly.
"This man," She pulled out her phone and showed me a photograph of... my Uncle? My dead uncle?
"I know what you're thinking," She continued, "But he's not dead. He's alive and he's coming for you."
"Have you been to the police with this?" I asked, not entirely convinced.
"Well, yes." She muttered, "But they didn't believe me. So this is where you come in."
"What do you mean?" I asked, dumbfounded.
So she launched into an explanation about how I needed to fake my own murder and frame my not-so-dead uncle. And it made sense. It did, why wouldn't I take the 10,000 simoleans she was offering. Especially if it meant my parents' murderer would go down.
"Ok. I'll do it," I said easily. I have no reason not to. Not one.
"But tell me," I demanded, "Why was I told my Uncle was dead. Why wasn't I taken to live with him when my parents died?"
"You see, Your uncle was mentally unstable. Psychotic even. Your parents' didn't want him around you and in case anything happened to them they made sure to leave specific instructions with Social Services that there should be no mention of him. They knew how much you loved him and they found it easier to explain to you that he had passed away rather than become a crazy, blood lustful creep." She ranted, not pausing for a breath.
* * *
It had been two hours since I'd met Stephanie and now I was sat in some sketchy warehouse, about to have my hair cut and dyed. I'd already had a lot of blood drawn to be used at the fake crime scene. Now I was getting new documents so I could continue my life elsewhere, as Bella Wake.
Once she'd finished with my hair she gestured at a rack of clothes. "Go put them on. Pick something Bella would where. Not Alisha"
I chose a light grey tank, some ripped jeans and blue trainers.
"Well come on, Bella! Get in front of the camera!" Stephanie urged.
Once my photo's were taken, I asked Stephanie "What if he has an alibi?"
"Oh don't worry sweetie, we've got that covered."
"How?"
"Oh, well my guys will drug him, smear some of your blood on him and stick him in an alley with a half empty bottle of beer. He won't remember a thing, until it's all over the news that you've been murdered. Then he'll think he did it. And there'll be evidence, a few of his fingerprints and hairs at the scene, a fibre or two from his jacket and an anonymous tip. After that, the police will go back to your parents' case and find things they overlooked, and they'll know it was him."
"Okay," I nodded, "But they'll obviously never find a body, so how will they know I'm 'dead'"
"There's enough blood. No way you could have survived" She smiled.
"Here" She threw a bag and a file at my feet, "You're money, you're documents. Nice to meet you, Bella Wake. Remember your story. It's all in there, you were born in Riverview, moved to Willow Creek for a fresh start."
"Willow Creek?" I asked.
"Yeah, that's where your train ticket is to. It's all in the file. Don't worry about it. Read it, know it, live it."
I picked up my stuff and left. "Thank you, Steph."
* * *
I'd been travelling for 5 hours on the train and I must have fell asleep because when I got off, the place was deserted!
Exhausted, I headed into the little coffee shop outside the station. I sat sipping my coffee for an hour, unsure of what to do after I was finished.
Once it became clear I couldn't make the drink last any longer, I picked up my bag and headed to the Bank. I needed a mortgage to pay for the house Stephanie had recommended. I sat in front of the woman behind the desk and told her my story.
"I've been saving for years for this," I began."I have nowhere to go..."
"This town, this house is perfect for me. It's everything I've ever dreamed of." I reached up and itched the back of my head. I could tell she didn't believe me. I needed to take it up a level.
"Ever since my parents passed away, everybody hated me. They all blamed me, because I survived. I even blamed myself. But now I know the crash wasn't my fault, it was the other driver."
I put my hand to my face and summoned a few tears. "I'm sorry" I said, "It's just, this is my fresh start. My chance."
I thought for sure that I'd blew it, but it worked. The woman was sympathetic and gave me the mortgage. I made my deposit of $4000 and collected my keys.
The house was only a few blocks away from the bank and once I arrived I looked up and felt truly happy. This really is my chance.
