REDEMPTION | MAFIA ROMANCE | SMUT

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Life Before

Liam

I guess the only time people think about injustice is when it happens to them - Charles Bukowski's quote pinned at the forefront of my mind. The psychology of choice is down to the individual: racial inequality, stereotyping, segregation, child exploitation and neglect are unjustifiable actions exercised daily by unprincipled people.

Immortality comes in different shades and numerous faces.

Which living entity is worse?

Heartless perpetrators or the ignorant, uneducated person who defends their honour?

Gillian is no better than Trevor.

Gillian condoned Trevor's wickedness.

Trevor, the drunken idiot.

Trevor, the wife-beater.

Trevor, the fucking kiddy fiddler.

People who disregard nefariousness are just as bad—if not worse—as the unhinged morons that commit crimes.

Enabler.

Facilitator.

Narcissistic malevolence.

Glaring at the computer screen, I browsed the internet in this squalid internet cafe to try and wrap my head around the last twenty-four hours.

Paedophile: someone who is sexually attracted to children.

Are teenagers still considered children?

I am twelve years old. Technically, I am not a teenager, but I do not feel like a child, either. I have aged quicker than most. I had to grow up, I guess.

What is the life of a typical teenager? I typed into the browser.

Troubled youngsters tend to be disillusioned, incandescent and subdued, which stem from nature and circumstances.

What does disillusioned mean?

According to the oxford dictionary, disillusioned means disappointed in someone or something that one discovers to be less good than one had believed.

I harrumphed.

Relatable. Except I cannot be disappointed in the people who brought me into this world because I have never met them. Plus, having high expectations for paid individuals that pretended to care is senseless. Life has proved time and time again that I cannot depend on anyone but myself. I am my own source of happiness. To be fearless and independent, I had to learn how to survive. Alone.

The dude to my right left his computer unattended for a bathroom break. His coat was draped on the back of the chair. Re-checking our surroundings, I pinched loose change from his pocket and inserted coins into the metre. Funds provided an extra thirty minutes on the net. I can continue to educate myself. I'd love snacks, though. Fuck, I am hungry. And thirsty. And I smelt like shit. I looked like shit. Hell, I felt like shit. I am also grouchy, tired.

Did I mention hungry?

My mind re-visited Gillian.

What if Trevor beat her because I left?

Gillian is guilty of delusion. Fool's paradise aside, she was kind to me. I did not care enough to miss her, but I worried for the battered wife. Rather, I hoped her good-for-nothing husband kept his hands to himself.

I still do not understand why nice people like Gillian supported shameless scum. Even though I have read countless articles online, I fell to the sword of bafflement.