River of lies, p.1
River of Lies, page 1
River of Lies
River of Lies, Volume 1
S L Davies
Published by S L Davies, 2023.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
RIVER OF LIES
First edition. March 15, 2023.
Copyright © 2023 S L Davies.
Written by S L Davies.
Author Note
Thank you for choosing to read “River of Lies.” This story contains some subjects that may be triggering to readers. Included are abuse, suicide, drug use, murder, cheating, rape, and self-harm. I suggest you skip this one if any of these topics are triggering. Language and themes are suited to 18+.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Disclaimer
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Chapter Sixty
Chapter Sixty-One
Chapter Sixty-Two
Chapter Sixty-Three
Chapter Sixty-Four
Chapter Sixty-Five
Chapter Sixty-Six
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Chapter Seventy
Chapter Seventy-One
Chapter Seventy-Two
Chapter Seventy-Three
Chapter Seventy-Four
Chapter Seventy-Five
Chapter Seventy-Six
Chapter Seventy-Seven
Chapter Seventy-Eight
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About the Author
Prologue
The nineties were a time of enlightenment. Television ads told of safe sex to prevent aids, not smoking to prevent lung cancer, going to church to avoid going to hell and staying in school. The drug taking, smoking, needle sharing, parents who hated church, and the people who went to them were the same ones raising April. She was only a few weeks from her eighteenth birthday and had already decided to never be like her parents. April had no desire to go to church; her only experience with Christians was that they were all judgemental super freaks who bounced about saying “Praise Jesus”; however, she also knew she didn’t want to pray to the gods of her mother, the heroin god.
April’s mother, Maddy, was a disgrace in the eyes of society. Maddy couldn’t live a moment without worshipping at the feet of the heroin god, and April’s father, Shane, was Maddy’s dealer or savior, depending on who was asked. To April, she was just a mum who was sometimes present and other times lost in her pain.
Shane didn’t do the drugs like Maddy; he just kept her well-supplied. Maddy and anyone with the cash to buy from Shane’s constant supply of marijuana, heroin, speed, pills, and occasional coke.
The house was a bigger disgrace than her family's life, which could sometimes be hard to believe. The stink struck unsuspecting nostrils from the front door, and the trails through the rubbish that littered every room didn’t help. Scattered around the ground were empty containers holding moldy sludge that once was milk or food. Needles carpeted the floor; every surface was sticky with spilled bong water, alcohol, and dried vomit. In one corner of the living room was a growing pile of discarded cigarette butts. The walls were stained with a thick yellow tar, and the curtains, although faded and tattered, remained closed. The toilet was the worst room in the house; it was stained brown and stunk of vomit and shit.
April’s only haven in the house had been her room, which was kept meticulously. The only furniture she had was a single mattress on the floor with a soft pink floral quilt cover and a flattened pillow that she had been given by someone as a baby. All other furniture had been sold to continue to feed her mother’s habit. April removed the curtains, and the windows were kept open; she needed to feel the outside air even during the wet and cold winter.
Being locked in stifled April, and she felt like she would suffocate. The only escape from April's life was the books in a neat pile beside her bed. All were borrowed from the library as there was never money to buy books. She loved to read everything from war stories to romance. April could never read stories about others living in a drug-fuelled world like her. It was too close to reality.
April’s room was her sanctuary. Shane had always been somewhat protective. He attempted to never let his customers near April. It didn’t always stay that way, but it was a sanctuary at one time. She had heard of other kids living in a world of drugs that weren’t kept safe. April, however, could thank the universe every day that she didn’t have to live that life.
Maddy had a friend called Michael. April had sometimes wondered whether there was more going on than just friends. Still, whenever she tried to bring up the subject with her mother, Maddy would scream about minding one’s business.
Michael was the only man that was even more protective of April than her father. Even when Michael was drugged, he never let any man near her. Any man that looked sideways at April always found Michael’s beefy hand on their chest and his steely eyes glaring at them with a shake of his head that would cause them to back away. April wanted to like Michael. He was strong, his drug of choice being steroids mixed with marijuana and the occasional speed or pill.
One stormy weekend a customer managed to slip past Michael. He had been arguing with Shelly, his skinny, scabbed, rattled girlfriend.
There was a light knock on April’s door. Before she could call out, the door handle turned, and a man she only knew as Duggar poked his head around the corner. He was a weedy, stinking, creepy man with rat-like features. His hair was matted into one big dreadlock, and the stench from his every pore made April’s throat constrict whenever he was near.
April pulled her legs close and hugged her arms around her knees as he quietly edged into her room. Duggar only turned away as he silently pushed the door shut behind him. His eyes darted around the room and narrowed as he looked at April with a conviction that made her skin instantly prickle with fear.
“Don’t shut that,” April said meekly, her voice failing with the fear beginning to take over her whole being. Duggar made a purposeful effort to shut the door with a quiet knick. April’s heart pounded deep in her chest, and her lungs constricted with anxiety.
He smiled a rotten smile that made April shiver with fear. His beady blue eyes were red around the rims. He ignored April’s pleas and approached where she sat hunched on her mattress. April edged into the corner against her wall, wishing it would open and swallow her away from the approaching horror she knew was coming. In April’s panic, she wondered how much it would hurt to leap through the open window. It was a long drop, but not that high that she would likely break anything.
As if Duggar could read April’s mind, he was on top of her within the blink of an eye. Duggar held her arms tight above her head and pushed her legs apart with his knees. April’s eyes opened wide with the fear running through her body like ice.
April darted her eyes around the room, begging silently for someone to come in and save her. She struggled against Duggar’s hold; however, he was stronger than he appeared, and she couldn’t shift him. Duggar shook his head, grunting slightly as he tightened his black-crusted fingers around her wrists. Duggar smiled a broad rotten smile in response.
“Be a good girl, and you might actually like it,” he spat into April’s ear, his breath stinking across her face; she couldn’t get rid of the taste of bile that filled her mouth.
In one clawed hand, he clasped April’s wrists above her head and spread his knees apart so that her legs opened wide. April’s jeans constrict
Duggar seemed to take a sick pleasure in the pain and fear that filled April’s soul. With Duggar’s other hand, he reached under April’s top and crudely grabbed her breast. He squeezed on her small nipple tight, forcing it to perk painfully. She cried out in pain, which made Duggar’s smile grow.
April tried to fight back the tears that threatened to overflow. She didn’t want to show him just how scared she was. April bit her inner cheek and let the pain take her away from what would happen. As she drifted off into the realms of her books and blocked out the crude grasps of the stinking man on top of her, she could feel Duggar start to pull at the button of her jeans with his free hand. Suddenly her bedroom door slammed open and ricocheted almost off its hinges.
Duggar stopped, frozen as they both looked to see Michael, his face red, the veins on his neck pulsed, and his eyes were wild.
“Get. Off. Her. Now,” Michael bellowed, causing the windows to shake.
Duggar scrambled off April and slammed himself against the cupboard as if trying to meld his way into the wood and disappear. Michael’s big meaty fist wrapped itself around Duggar’s throat and lifted him off the ground.
April pulled herself into a tight ball against the wall. Suddenly, her sanctuary had been breached. Michael spun on his heel and carried Duggar out of the room, his throat in Michael’s hand. Duggar was spitting, trying to speak as his eyes bulged with fear and lack of oxygen. April didn’t leave her room for the rest of the night but stayed curled in a little ball, afraid to move; her eyes never left the door.
The next day as the sun shone brightly through the window and the wind whipped around April’s dark curls, Michael came into the room cautiously. April noticed that he pointedly left the door open and kept his distance from the broken girl, although with a woman's body curled in a ball against her wall like a child. April’s eyes wildly roamed the room in fear.
“I’m sorry that happened, April,” he said, dropping his head and looking at the floor. “He won’t come near you again.”
April looked up at Michael; the tears she had been fighting could no longer be held back as she stood and ran towards him and buried her face into his muscular chest. He hesitantly put his arms around her shoulders and kissed April’s head.
They stood that way for what seemed like an eternity, April sobbing into her savior’s chest, who was no better than her own mother but had saved her from someone so evil that April didn’t know she could live through the pain he would have brought.
Neither Michael nor April spoke about the incident, and she never saw Duggar at the house again. April feared the summer school holidays and the six weeks of being a prisoner in her home. Six weeks of constant reminding that her sanctuary had been breached.
Chapter One
Summer arrived savagely. The roads and street signs seemed to melt as April walked home on her last school day. Her school dress was signed by friends, her hair dripped with shaving cream and confetti, and boobs were drawn on her back by Wayde Knox, the hottest and toughest boy in school. She had a crush on him for as long as she could remember.
Knox was a year older than April but seemed different from the other boys. His reputation went before him. His dad was the chapter house president of Kings of Darkness, the motorbike club known for its drug and gun running. April didn’t want to be a part of that world, but she wouldn’t have said no to Wayde Knox.
April didn’t have a lot of friends, and she knew what it was like to be bullied. That’s why Knox was so different. He didn’t screw his nose up at her when he saw that her hair was dirty or smelt her dress. He constantly flashed her that gorgeous smile as he passed her in the corridor at school. April spent many nights dreaming of Knox’s long dark hair and eyes so dark they were almost black. Sometimes she would see him, and his eyes would be hard as steel. Other times, however, he would meet her eyes, and they would melt.
On the last day of school, however, the walk home seemed to take longer than the usual half hour, but as April rounded the corner, she could see the flashing blue and red lights. As April approached, a parade of police walked up and down April’s driveway like ants on a mission. All thoughts that it was Mrs. Simons next door, which might have had another fall, were dashed as she realized that the police were at her house, not the frail old neighbors.
Something else had caught her eye. April noticed Michael and Shelly sitting in their Volkswagen beetle just down the road from her family home. Michael’s face was pale as he watched the show unfolding in her driveway. April’s heart was in her throat as the sweat trickling down her back turned ice cold.
Before she knew it, her feet were moving faster as she ran towards the driveway and into the arms of the waiting policewoman. April could hear the policewoman saying that April couldn’t enter the house. Still, she couldn’t comprehend what the policewoman was saying. April broke free of her arms and scaled the front steps in a single leap.
As soon as she entered the front door, the smell of vomit raped her nostrils as it filled her brain with its stench. She could see a crowd of policemen standing in a circle, and April could see a hand through their legs. April recognized the hand the minute she saw it. Her mother’s hand. The scream that had been building finally reached its climax and escaped her lips in a guttural roar that echoed through the home's walls. The policemen, who hadn’t heard April come in, were startled and spun to look at her, mouths ajar.
Their movement opened the view of her mother, sprawled on the wooden lounge room floor, her neck contorted in an unnatural position. There was vomit pooling under her head, combined with her long black hair. Her eyes were wide open, and her lips were pulled into a twisted smile. Maddy’s yellowing teeth seemed more prominent than usual in her whitening gums. White Froth spewed from the sides of her mouth, and the dark circles that seemed ever-present under Maddy’s eyes were the darkest April had ever seen. A needle was still stuck in the crook of her mother’s elbow, and blood dribbled from the injection site. April’s knees collapsed underneath her, and she hit the ground with a loud thud but felt nothing. Her only consuming thought was Maddy lying on the floor before her.
April hated Maddy for what she did and her addictions, but at that moment, April felt lost and broken. The woman that birthed her that had attempted to love her in some strange and warped way was lying motionless, pale, and dead on the floor.
There wouldn’t be a beautiful eulogy in the paper. April’s mother had become nothing more than another dead junkie that wouldn’t have a lovely funeral or be remembered by her ancestors. She was nothing more than a dirty junkie that would take up police time, and society would have to bear the burden.
April had heard all the sneers before from her schoolmate’s parents. Her whole life was nothing more than a walking reputation that her mother carried. One of the policemen reached out his hand, rested it under April’s arm, and pulled her up. April couldn’t take her eyes off Maddy.
April could hear him speaking, but like the police lady out the front, she couldn’t understand what he was saying. The ringing in her ears was too loud as if her brain was screaming in pain and trying to escape her body. Tears were streaming down her face like a torrential waterfall as her heart shattered.
“April, April,” the voice pierced through her thoughts.
April turned in a daze to follow the voice and saw her father, once a big man, now shriveled and broken, in handcuffs. April took in his disheveled look, his greying hair messed up, his beard stubble sticking from his face like pine needles, his black singlet covered in vomit, she assumed from Maddy. His muscles which used to be big and firm, now sagged, and his skin was loose and wrinkled. April had walked straight past him when she first came into the room. In her grief and fear, she hadn’t even seen him.
“What happened?” April sobbed.
Shane shook his head. His eyes were red, and April saw that he had been crying. “It was a bad batch, April; I didn’t know.”
April turned to look back at Maddy, color had drained from her lips, and they were beginning to turn a purplish-blue. The needles seemed scattered over the house, like a shag rug, the ones that had become such a normal part of family life in her home. April’s anguish started to give way to disgust. She hated Maddy’s demons, her demons in the shape of heroin, a teaspoon, and endless needles.
