The Angry Sister

BEFORE

‘Ms. Palmer, this is Deputy Dwayne from the sheriff’s department, we spoke at the hospital yesterday. Sheriff Hunt would like to speak to you further about the events surrounding your sister’s death. Please come by the department at your earliest convenience. Thank you.’

When Jade got out of the shower, the voicemail awaited her. Her body ached from an internal pain that had prevented her from sleeping well last night. When she first opened her eyes, she thought yesterday was just a nightmare and she would find Amy in the kitchen eating chocolate chip pancakes, her favorite breakfast. Jade had lain in bed waiting for the aroma of the pancakes to drift down the hall to the bedroom. But there was no sweet smell of pancakes… and no Amy in the kitchen.

The nightmare was real.

Jade listened to the voicemail again and dropped the phone on the bed. Deputy Dwayne. She barely remembered the officer. After viewing Amy’s body, she’d mentally checked out. She’d felt like she was standing outside her body as she answered the deputy’s questions, hearing her voice as if it belonged to someone else, giving him basic details with a detached, hollow tone. Jade couldn’t even remember what exactly she had told him. Apparently, it wasn’t enough because the sheriff had asked to speak with her.

I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Jade sank onto the edge of the bed and buried her face in her hands. Her blood felt replaced by lead, weighing her down. When she closed her eyes, she was standing over Amy’s body at the hospital again—her brutalized, violated body.

The rage surged within, making her dizzy.

Images of three faceless men swirled inside her head, their identities hidden.

I’ll find you motherfuckers. You don’t get to hide.

Jade saw her fingers sliding through Amy’s hair as her sister’s bruised face blurred.

“I’ll find them, baby. They won’t get away with this. I promise.”

The promise she’d made yesterday as she stood alone in that room with her dead sister continued to grip her. She intended to keep her word… somehow. Someone somewhere knew these men. Jade’s entire existence now consisted of one goal— find them and avenge her little sister.

Jade cleared her throat and raised her head, wiping dampness from her eyes. Her gaze drifted to the nightstand and rested heavily on Amy’s cell phone, lying dark and silent beneath the lamp. Jade had rarely seen the device turned off. Amy was constantly taking pics and recording videos—of everything. But mostly, of her and Jasmine. How many videos of Amy and Jasmine filled up the phone? All Jade had to do was open the phone to see her sister’s bright, smiling face… hear her laughter and sweet voice.

Tears formed as she reached for the phone and held it lovingly. All she had left of Amy was inside the device. She turned it on but hesitated to venture inside.

Don’t do it. You’re not ready.

Jade opened it anyway, aware of the crippling anguish that awaited her.

It took a moment for her to go into the images, and when she did, her heart crumbled as photo after photo displayed Amy and Jasmine smiling and laughing, making funny faces, so full of happiness and life.

“Amy…” Jade sobbed and hung her head. Tears streamed down her face and her chest tightened until she could hardly breathe.

This isn’t fair… this shouldn’t have happened… they had no FUCKING RIGHT!

“I hope you all burn in fucking hell!” Jade cried. “I hope the devil fucks you up the ass for all eternity!” An ache webbed through Jade’s face as she clenched her jaw against the seething rage scorching through her. “ Fuck you! FUCK YOU!!” Jade wilted onto the bed in a sobbing fit, curling into herself, and hugging Amy’s phone to her chest. “I’m so sorry, Amy,” she whispered brokenly. “I’m so sorry, baby… it wasn’t supposed to happen to you… it wasn’t… it wasn’t…”

Jade didn’t know how long she lay there cradling her sister’s phone. The numbness returned when she finally sat up. Her body still felt heavy, and she didn’t want to move, but the sheriff was expecting her. Rather than stand up, Jade leaned forward and stared blankly at the cell phone. She opened it again and scrolled through the videos without watching any. The photos were hard enough to view, she didn’t think she could handle a video. Jade started to turn off the phone when she noticed the three most recent videos were dated yesterday.

I can’t look. I can’t see her “alive”—I can’t handle it.

Her eyes swam as pain racked her heart, nearly seizing the muscle. Against her will, her thumb slid over the first video and opened the file. It wasn’t Amy’s face that appeared, but footage of the protestors outside the college. Mostly young men, waving signs that stated Types of Property: Women. Slaves. Land. Cars. And, Your Body, MY Choice. Other signs proclaimed that women no longer had rights. The men chanted the slogans with smug malevolence and chauvinistic superiority.

“Can you believe this?” Amy’s voice whispered over the video with a tremor of fear. “What the hell is going on?”

“I want to go home,” Jasmine murmured anxiously. A faint notification dinged in the background. Moments later, Jasmine spoke again, her voice shaking. “Amy… look… look at this… what is this?”

The girls went silent briefly. “I’m gonna call Jade,” Amy whispered with renewed fear. “We’re going home. I don’t care if we still have classes.”

The video ended.

Jade shook, her heart pounding. Seeing the picketers with her own eyes frightened Jade. Emboldened, entitled men were terrifying and dangerous. It felt surreal to see them standing out in public and making such claims to and about women, like a living nightmare.

The second video caught more footage of the picketers, zeroing in on three young men who looked right into the phone camera. They turned their focus on Amy and Jasmine, making direct, derogatory comments to the young women. The camera withdrew as the girls retreated from the protestors, but the men advanced, walking toward them.

“You can’t run away, bitches. There’s nowhere for you to hide anymore. We’re in control now.”

“Yeah, come on back. Give us a taste.” The man speaking grabbed his crotch. “I’ll give you a taste—whether you want it or not.”

“We don’t need your permission anymore. We can take whatever the fuck we want, and you can’t say a goddamn thing.”

Jade could hear Amy and Jasmine’s quickened, shuddered breaths as they retreated in a hurry moments before the video ended.

Her throat worked with rage and Jade’s vision distorted. “It was you three fuckers, wasn’t it?” Her voice strained as fresh fury scalded her insides. She swallowed hard and opened the last video.

Amy and Jasmine’s worried faces appeared on screen and Jasmine had tears in her eyes. Amy was recording as they walked through the park.

“A-Are they following us?” Jasmine trembled.

Amy squinted, using the camera to look behind them. “I-I don’t think so. We’re almost home. We’re okay—”

“What?” Jasmine whimpered. “What is it?”

The three men from the second video appeared a few yards behind them.

“Oh shit,” Amy hissed.

“Will… will they do anything out here in the open? In broad daylight?”

“I-I don’t know.” Amy was scared. Really scared. “Let’s hurry. We’re almost to the apartment building.”

Amy kept the camera on as she and Jasmine walked faster. The men picked up their pace and called out to the girls.

“Hold up, girls. Where you going?”

Amy and Jasmine didn’t acknowledge the men and moved along more quickly.

“Hey! Bitches! Who do you think you are? You can’t say no to us anymore!”

“Yeah, sluts! That’s our pussy now! We don’t need to ask!”

The girls breathed harder as terror washed over them. The camera lowered and shook as Amy and Jasmine ran from the men, who hooted and hollered and gave chase.

Pandemonium broke out and the phone struck the ground facedown, the screen dark… but still recording the audio of the brutal assault. Amy and Jasmine screamed—then were abruptly muffled. Scuffling sounds erupted from the phone. Whimpering and crying. And the men’s voices.

“Yeah, bitch, give me my pussy!” The man grunted and Amy cried out— “No! Please no! Stop!” More grunting… more cries. “Fuck, yeah… take it, cunt… no means yes now…”

Jasmine screamed and then gagged.

“You’re mine, slave,” one of the men panted heavily. “No use fighting—I fucking own you and your pussy!”

The men grunted and laughed while the girls cried and fought them.

Jade shook violently, barely able to hold onto the phone. Tears streaked her face as a flurry of pain, rage, and hate roiled inside her. “Motherfuckers!” Jade screamed at the phone. “ Stop! STOOPPP!!” But there was no stopping the nightmare. What surged through the cell’s speakers was merely an echo of the horrors already committed.

A violent scuffling erupted and one of the men shouted in a raspy, strained voice – “Get back here, cunt!”

“Catch her!” Another yelled.

“I can’t…” the first man gasped. “She kicked me in the balls!”

“Just finish with this one and let’s get out of here.”

“Hang the fucking slave!”

Jasmine cried and gagged as more scuffling ensued.

“Forget her! Let’s go!”

A dull thud as something hit the ground, and then the sound of retreating footsteps.

Jade couldn’t stop shaking as an ominous silence filtered through the phone.

I’ll kill them… I’ll kill them… I’ll fucking KILL THEM ALL!!

Almost an hour passed before Jade calmed down enough to go to the Sheriff’s department. Her insides continued to shake as she entered the building. She’d vomited three times after listening to the videos and felt like she might do so again. But there was nothing left inside her.

Jade was empty—in body, mind, and soul. She felt like a husk of a human being—barren and brittle—certain that one more hit would blow her to smithereens, scattering her ashes to the four winds. A part of her hoped for that hit. A final strike that would put her out of her misery.

Not yet. Not until those fuckers pay for what they did.

Jade was directed to the sheriff’s office to wait for Sheriff Hunt. She sat hunched over in the chair before the desk, the hood of her light jacket pulled over her head as she stared blankly at her hands. Her mind wasn’t on the sheriff. Other thoughts infiltrated her mind. Dark imaginations that hadn’t surfaced since she was raped eight years ago. Her therapist had encouraged her to fight those thoughts and feelings, and she had. He’d said the healing would come, with work, but only if she let go of the negative emotions and focused on the positive things in her life. Like Amy. For Amy, she fought off rage and depression.

But Amy was gone—taken by the same type of monsters that attacked Jade.

The rage had returned… and no one was left to give her cause to resist.

The office door opened behind Jade. She didn’t turn around.

“Ms. Palmer? I’m Sheriff Hunt.” A woman. Jade had expected a man.

Jade slowly raised her head as the sheriff walked around behind her desk. Sheriff Hunt was slim but shapely—even in the unflattering uniform—and Jade guessed her age as early thirties.

“Thank you for coming in,” the sheriff said, a soft edge to her voice. She sat down and met Jade’s stare for the first time. “I…” The woman faltered and her eyes widened a bit as if shocked by something not apparent to the naked eye.

Jade felt the punch in her chest at the same time and for s a split second, the two women just stared at one another.

“I, uh…” Sheriff Hunt cleared her throat and averted her eyes. “I know this is a difficult time for you. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

Jade’s head was reeling, and she didn’t understand why. Her heart pounded, thumping against her ribs. She couldn’t catch her breath. When the sheriff met her eyes again, the sensation renewed with another “punch”—this time straight to the heart. What the fuck is happening?

“I know you’ve already spoken to my deputy,” Sheriff Hunt said, a slight rasp in her voice. “But I was hoping you could tell me what happened yesterday evening in the park.”

Jade avoided the woman’s eyes, unsettled by the uncharacteristic emotions the sheriff stirred inside her. It didn’t make sense. Jade spoke hollowly as she recounted yesterday’s events in painful clarity.

“Jasmine…” Jade whispered shakily. “She… she had abrasions around her neck, like… like rope burns… or something.” Hang the fucking slave. She closed her eyes, and squeezed them tight, forcing back the tears. “Did they… did they hang her?”

“There was evidence of that,” Sheriff Hunt confirmed. “Bark on a low-hanging tree limb was rubbed away where we believe the rope was positioned. My deputies found the rope tossed into some bushes. There were bits of bark on the rope and… Jasmine’s blood.” She faltered. “When you found Jasmine in the park, did you… see what was written on her chest?”

“Written on her chest?” Jade hadn’t moved Jasmine from her fetal position. “What?”

Sheriff Hunt licked her lips and exhaled. “In black marker, they wrote… MY Body, Slave.”

Jade swallowed, her eyes on the floor. Her fists clenched in her lap. “The doctor said they were… raped by three men.”

“The evidence suggests that, yes.”

“What’re you going to do to find them?” Jade’s throat worked and she raised her eyes. She felt the rage radiating through her stare.

“You said your sister called you just before she and her friend headed home. They were afraid of the picketers.”

“Yes.”

“We’ll start there, with the picketers. Find out if any other students saw anyone approach Amy and Jasmine before they left campus.”

“You think some of the picketers did this?”

“Possibly. But if we have no eyewitnesses…”

“Then what? You just give up? Let them get away with it?”

“No. Absolutely not.” Sheriff Hunt looked at her with a penetrating gaze that reached to Jade’s core. “I won’t stop until they are brought to justice.”

Justice. What did that even mean? A fucking rapist ran the country. There was no fucking justice anymore.

“Is there anything else you can tell me,” the sheriff asked. “Anything at all. Even something that might not seem important.”

Jade held her stare as images from the videos surged through her head. The men’s faces were in those videos. Incriminating evidence that they had followed the girls and attacked them. Everything the sheriff needed to make the arrests. But Jade just stared at Sheriff Hunt… and shook her head.

“No,” she whispered. “There’s nothing else.”