Photo by Alexander Dummer on Unsplash
“It’s 7 pm and you’re watching ‘The Broke View’. I’m Samantha Johnson, your host, and I’m thrilled to introduce our special guest for today’s episode.”
The sound of clapping hands echoed through the venue as the live audience applauded. I sank into my designated seat and observed her as she swiftly continued.
“I know this is a special day for all of you! It took us a while but we’ve finally made it!” The audience cheered as the host turned her attention to me. “Let’s give a big round of applause to our special guest, Mina Arslan!”
I found myself uncomfortably numb as I locked eyes with the host. Despite being just a few years younger than me, she had already established a solid reputation in this industry.
It was clear that she possessed an unyielding drive and a relentless work ethic, willing to go to any lengths to achieve her goals. I was a tool for her, a mere tool to achieve success.
Uncomfortable with my stare, she shifted her weight in her seat and peeked at her cards. Not long after this, the applause dwindled into silence.
“How are you?”
I delayed my response. I couldn’t help but smirk as I looked away for a brief moment. Her face, the way she looked, got on my nerves…
“Can we skip the small talk, Ms Johnson? I don’t feel like talking.”
“Sure. Well, let’s cut to the chase, then?” She flashed a fake smile, eyeing the crowd just as the music grew louder. “Let’s begin the interview.”
Another round of meaningless applause. As the lights shifted, a dark blue hue washed over us, drawing all eyes to the centre of the stage.
The atmosphere changed along with the lights. The silence was so profound that even the slightest sound, like a pin dropping, would be heard.
“Your book, I must say, was a page-turner that kept me hooked until the very last chapter. Would you mind sharing the story behind the creation of your book?”
“Like many authors before me, I find this question tricky to answer. The plot idea and the story don’t magically come together in one sitting; they require time to evolve into their final form at publication.”
“In your first interview after being acquitted, you mentioned that this story was a product of your desperation. Can you elaborate on this?”
“I’m sure every author will have their own take on this, but writing has never been my passion. Every time I put pen to paper, it was to create something meaningful and worthwhile. I didn’t want to write just for the sake of it, I wanted to change the world.”
“Would you consider yourself a dreamer? Someone trying to make the world a better place – one piece of writing at a time?”
“I would like to think so, yes. Because all I have is my voice. If using it will change something for the better, why should I not use it?”
One of the production staff responsible for the show held up a sign. The host turned towards the camera in the farthest corner and put on a fake smile.
“This is ‘The Broke View’ and I’m Samantha Johnson, your host. Stay tuned for more bone-chilling interviews after the break.”
The crowd was going wild, cheering and clapping like there was no tomorrow. The production staff’s faces said it all – the ratings were off the charts.
The host excused herself and went backstage. I followed her until she was no longer in my immediate sight.
Ever since I released my book in prison, my manager has been in constant communication with the production staff.
The crime show had a loyal following, and many of my fans were among its avid viewers. It wasn’t a matter of whether I could join, but rather when I would.
Besides, the circumstances behind the success of my book were also of interest to the public. From an inmate on trial for the murder of her sister, I was now a bestselling author with millions of followers.
The host returned from her break and the lights flickered back on accompanied by loud cheers. After giving a brief on the show’s contents, the host picked up right from where she left off.
“As an investigative journalist and TV host, I’ve been following your case and trial for many years. The disappearance and subsequent murder of your sister has left an indelible mark on all of us.
“It is one of those incidents that linger in our minds long after it’s over. I can’t imagine how it must’ve felt to be accused of killing your own sister.”
I shifted in my seat, trying to calm my nerves and appear as unfazed as possible.
“It’s been, uhm, a very long journey – if I can even call it that. My sister was everything to me, you know? We met too late in life and I… I wish I could’ve met her sooner, before she—”
“I know you’ve heard this a lot and I know it’s a tough question, but our viewers have been waiting for years to hear it from you in person. What are your thoughts on the similarity between your protagonist and your late sister?
“From my understanding, their fates are very much similar in more than one aspect. Even the details of your character’s murder are uncannily similar to your sister’s.”
I smirked. “It’s all made up.”
“The details of the modus operandi had not been disclosed to the public at the time of publication. No one but the authorities and the murderer knew how your sister died.”
“I was the first person the police contacted when they found her. I was also the one who filed a missing person’s report.”
“According to the report my team obtained from the police, however, you were apprehended as a potential suspect – not a witness.”
I leaned forward, taking my time to reply as the host scribbled down something on her card.
“Are you suggesting I killed my sister?”
She stopped jotting and met my gaze.
“I’m only saying it’s a possibility, Ms Arslan. There were holes in your alibi and you couldn’t provide any proof of how you knew the modus operandi before it was disclosed to the public.
“That’s why you were locked up for the past year and a half. How do you explain that?”
“I can’t,” I said, sinking back in my seat as the audience erupted into chatter. The host’s face hardened as I said this, as if I was saying the opposite of what she was expecting.
“What’s that look? Wasn’t this what you wanted to hear, Ms Johnson? Should I spice things up? Throw in some details while at it to keep things interesting?”
“I want to hear the truth, Ms Arslan. That’s all I want. Don’t twist my words.”
“No, you just want to hear what you think is the truth. ‘Cause you’re no better than those assholes you work for.”
“Cut!”
The cameras stopped recording. My agent rushed over and yanked me aside, covering the microphone like his life depended on it to keep our conversation from reaching the studio.
“What the heck was that?”
“She said she wanted to hear the truth.”
“Are you out of your mind?” He heaved a sigh, his face contorted with distress and his emotions in complete disarray. “For fuck’s sake, Mina! Two years in jail wasn’t enough for you?”
“Those assholes think they’re clever.”
He was genuinely confused, “What are you talking about?”
“That girl, Samantha or whatever her name is. She’s not the regular host. They brought her in here just to see my reaction.”
The anger on his face vanished as his attention shifted to the host, who was engrossed in a conversation with one of the staff members.
“She… she looks like your sister?”
“Even after taking her life, they’re mocking her. I can’t just sit back and let them do whatever they want.”
“What are you gonna do?”
“We’re going ahead as planned. I have to come clean and get things over with. It’s only going to get worse from here. I don’t want to burden you with my problems. You don’t owe me anything.”
“What’s the point of telling the truth? You’ve made a fortune, why not make even more? Forget about everything and begin anew.”
“Peace,” I said, the word hanging in the air like a gentle breeze. “It’ll give me peace of mind.”
“You’ll regret it someday.”
“Maybe. But how will I know if I don’t give it a shot? I don’t exactly have a life, do I?”
I patted his shoulder and was about to return to the stage when he said something that cut me short.
“And your sister? Would she want this kind of life for you?”
Hesitating, I turned around, feeling a lump form in my throat as tears welled up in my eyes. But I couldn’t reply. No words escaped from my lips. We both knew the answer.
Taking a deep breath, I continued to the stage and let the spotlights shine on me. The audience erupted in a thunderous cheer.
“I am your host Samantha Johnson and you’re watching ‘The Broke View’.” She shuffled her cards before focusing on me. “Let’s take a short break from your novel, Ms Arslan. I heard that you and your sister were estranged. When was the last time you two saw each other?”
What games were these people playing this time? In the manuscript I received from the production staff, there was no mention of such a question. I glanced at my manager who looked equally confused.
My first instinct was to point out that the question was too personal and irrelevant for the interview, but something about the way she formed her words ticked me off.
“The day she passed away.”
The audience fell silent, their faces a mix of confusion and dread. The host, on the other hand, remained unfazed. She didn’t shy away from staring into my eyes as she continued whatever game she and her higher-ups were playing.
“That’s not what you told the police when they first interrogated you.”
I nodded to confirm her. The audience gasped and everyone held their breaths.
“I know. Does that make me her killer?”
“Why did you lie to the police?”
I sank back into my seat, my eyes tracing the intricate patterns on the high ceiling as I released a weary sigh. “Why?” I repeated. “Why did I lie?” Shifting focus, I bore my eyes into hers, saying nothing for a few seconds before adding: “Why do you think I lied?”
“I’m sorry?”
“You implied I killed her,” I said, “so I’m asking what your opinion is.”
“I never said that, I just—”
I leaned in and clasped my hands.
“I panicked… The day she took her own life. Everything happened so fast. I didn’t know what to say when the police brought me in. I didn’t give a damn, honestly. I had just lost my sister, the person I had been searching for my whole life, and I had to watch her take her last breath. Can you imagine that?”
Panicking, she frantically shuffled through her cards, her brows furrowed in visible confusion.
“The autopsy report states that the cause of death was a hit to the skull with a blunt object. Do you object to this?”
“I couldn’t give two shits about what that autopsy report says. All I know is she killed herself because of those bastards.” I bore my eyes into hers, sensing the panic course through her stiff veins as I added: “Do you want to hear who they are? I bet you know them.”
“Cut!”
I didn’t take my eyes off the host. Something about the way her eyes flickered told me I hit the right spot. She knew them. Those bastards who pushed my sister to the brink of death. I could almost read her thoughts: ‘Are you telling the truth?’ I wish I wasn’t.
My sister didn’t deserve to pass away so untimely. She was only twenty-four years old and had her whole life in front of her. If only I could turn back the clock and save her…
I was about to drink the lukewarm bottle of water on the table in front of me when I put it away and looked up at the host.
“Don’t do it.”
“Don’t do what?” I jeered. “Tell the truth?”
“If you’re not careful, they’ll—”
“They’ll crash my plane and say it was an accident? Do I look like I care?”
“I know what you’re trying to do but doing this will not bring your sister back.”
Pausing, I took a sip from the bottle and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.
“I know.”
“Then why?” Her voice cracked as she glanced at the production staff, who signalled at her not to cover the mic. “What difference does this make? You’re going to get yourself killed.”
“That’s what I want.”
“You’re not even—what happened to me, your sister, none of it has anything to do with you. Why should you, an outsider, die for our cause?”
“If someone has to die to reveal the truth, then it has to be someone like me.”
“Someone like you?”
“We’re live in 1…”
“What happened to you or my sister – none of it was your fault. I’ll make sure the world knows.”
Although hesitant, she subtly nodded before greeting her viewers with a smile. This time around, however, I knew it was a genuine one. How long had she waited for justice to be served – for someone to listen and do something?
Did my sister wait for me too all those sleepless nights in the arms of the perverted, who not only took her innocence but also her life from her?
I shook off the bleak thoughts and put on a forced smile as the spotlights fell on me once again.
“So, what you’re basically saying is that someone faked the autopsy report, correct?”
“More or less.”
“Do you have the evidence to prove this?”
I paused. “I don’t.”
“If that’s the case, how can we trust you?”
“Trust?” I repeated for myself, amused, before adding. “Think of it like this: the biggest evidence is silence. Now add up all the times we were cut and forced to change the subject.”
The director was about to shout cut halfway through my speech but stopped as I carried on. I shifted my focus to the gaping crowd, their eyes locked onto me as if under a spell.
“Allow me to share with you the details of what my sister told me on that fateful day. And if this broadcast is ever interrupted, let that prove my innocence.”
Anticipation hung in the air as a hush descended upon the audience, causing everyone to hold their breath in anticipation. I took a deep breath, feeling my heart pound in my chest as I gathered the courage to finally put an end to this misery.
The world needed to know. That was how I could make it up to my sister, who had to endure all those miserable years in my stead.
“I was raised in a family of immigrants. My dad manufactured drugs at a low-paying company, while my mum devoted her life and youth to raising us. We lived a normal, quiet life. Dad barely made enough to make ends meet, but we were content. We truly were.
“After slaving through his job for over a decade, my dad spared just enough to take us to a local hotel in Portland, Maine. Sara and I were seven respectively nine years old back then. We witnessed our parents' struggle financially for years and knew that this holiday meant a lot to them.”
I paused, taking a moment to gather my thoughts and regain control over my emotions. A lump formed in my throat. If only I could turn back time and prevent it all from happening…
“I was a little devil growing up, you never knew what I was up to before it was too late. My sister was the complete opposite. She always listened to our parents while I always rebelled.
“They told us not to sneak out without giving them a heads up, to not talk to strangers, the usual stuff parents say to protect their kids. But I was bored to death and felt like breaking the rules, so that was what I did.
“I snuck out in the middle of the night and played in the 32nd-floor hallway. Sara and I used to pretend to fly planes and make weird noises, and that was what I was doing while everyone in the hotel was asleep. At least that was what I thought. As I was turning around the corner, one of the doors cracked open. I remember seeing a man in his trousers smile at me through the crack, I remember my heart beating fast, and I remember not being able to move.”
I glanced at the host, whose trembling hands told me she had experienced something similar. Averting my gaze, I tried to find the courage to continue despite the harrowing memories flooding my mind.
“There was a woman with him. She asked if I wanted something sweet to eat. I didn’t like the way she made me feel. There was something innately evil about her. But I couldn’t say no. As I stood in the doorway, inches from sealing my own fate, my sister called my name down the corridor.
“I was so relieved when she grabbed my hand and took me back to our hotel room, that I didn’t even see the wicked looks on their faces. Mind, we looked nothing alike. I looked like the female version of my dad, quite masculine in build and facial features, while my sister had more feminine features and a petite frame.
“Next thing I know, she’s gone missing. I think it happened on the day we were supposed to return home. My parents were packing our stuff, and I was too afraid to venture out alone, so I hunkered down in my room and caught up on One Piece.
“Sara said she left her rag doll at the pool and asked me to go with her to find it, but I said I didn’t feel like it. It was one of the first gifts our parents got us, but Sara looked after it more than I did. I should’ve—I should have gone with her. I- I was being lazy and had no idea I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t see her for another twenty years.”
“For many years, I thought she was dead, that she had somehow passed away the day she disappeared. My parents never stopped looking for her, not even once. I didn’t tell anyone about the man in the trousers.
“I was only nine years old, and I didn’t know any better. Until I saw him again on the front page of a popular business magazine. He was praised for helping kids from poor and neglected households. He had a whole island just for that.
“People from all walks of life visited the island to make donations and take the children under their wings. Given the anonymous nature of the donations, however, only a select few were invited to the island itself. The invitation list was never leaked, but a few high-profile names had long been rumoured to frequent the island.”
“It was not long after this that the first few accusations of child abuse and pornography surfaced. My sister was one of the many victims who came forward despite the threats and demanded justice for their lost years. I didn’t recognise her at first, not until she showed up in an interview with that rag doll clutched to her chest.
“When I finally got in touch with her six months later, it was too late. The corrupted legal system ruled in favour of the perpetrators, citing the absurdity of the victims’ claims. The corrupted mainstream media even painted the victims as gold diggers.”
I took another pause, rubbing my face to gather courage one last time.
“When she told me what happened to her, to kids much younger than her, something in me just… just broke. She was one of the lucky ones who made it to this age. The younger ones never stood a chance against those—you’d think a 6-foot-tall man, who’s got the world wrapped around his finger, would know better than abusing an infant until its insides rupture and are hanging out of it.
“Just saying this makes my blood boil. And I’m supposed to shut up and let those sick people ruled by their perverse needs have their way? That’s not going to happen. Nothing in this world goes unpunished, whether it’s child abuse or an unwarranted genocide.”
Pausing, I let my words hang in the air, allowing the weight of the morbidity to descend upon the unsuspecting crowd and the viewers watching on the screen.
This speech was either going to be the beginning of the end or the end of the beginning. Whether I died tonight or survived, none of that mattered. Sara was waiting for me on the other side. I had one thing left to do. I lifted my gaze off the floor.
“I’m giving you one last chance to save yourselves and come clean to the world. But if you don’t play your cards right and let me leave this place tonight, I’ll drag you to hell. The choice is yours.
“And if you think I’m bluffing to make you confess know that I’ve got the proof to back up everything I’ve said. From now on, you’ve got exactly ten minutes to decide your fates.”
The host covered her mic.
“This is your plan? You’ll just let them off you after—do you know how many of us have waited for justice? To be heard and seen! And now, after giving us hope, you’ll just… just die?”
“You’ll be fine without me. I’m not bluffing. I spent a decade gathering enough evidence to put those imbeciles behind bars – even the judges who acquitted them stand no chance. Even if it’s too late, justice will be served. I hope…” My voice cracked as I looked into the crowd and noticed the sniper. “I hope there will be a day where children live, free and without fear, and those pieces of shit don’t.”
“You can save so many more, you can do so much more. If only you—”
“It’s too late for that, don’t you think? Look, they’ve already decided to put up a fight.”
She followed my gaze to the sniper, the panic in her darting eyes evident from miles away, her desperate voice a cry for help.
“If you die right now nothing will change! They’ll find a way to make themselves victims! It happened before, it will happen again!”
“Then so be it. At least, I can say I tried my best. There’s nothing that keeps me in this world – not anymore.”
“Look around you! Those who did this to me, your sister, they don’t stand a chance against the rest of us! Look at them! Look at them and tell me you don’t see what I see!”
I let my eyes land on the crowd, their misty eyes bloodshot and their faces lit up with newfound hope and gratitude.
It was the first time in my life that I saw the goodness in mankind. I dropped my head, trying to drown out her words.
“You did this. You did this! You can change the world.”
“I wish that were true, but it’s not. You’re mistaken.”
The red laser finally locked onto my forehead, so subtle that only I and the host could see it. Seven minutes had already elapsed at this point.
“Please! Don’t let them do this! If you do, nothing will ever stop them! They’ll continue right from where they left off! There’s not only one island under the guise of charity! What about those children? Don’t they deserve to live?”
I couldn’t respond. In my mind, I was already dead. But her words were getting to me. I didn’t like that. I shut them off, counting the remaining time in my head when a gunshot fired.
I fell. Nine minutes in. But I wasn’t dead. When I opened my eyes, Samantha’s lifeless body lay beside me like a human shield.
Her warm blood seeped into my clothes, dyeing everything a deep shade of crimson. Shocked, I couldn’t move. She worded something in the chaos that broke out, telling me to keep on living.
As the screams echoed through the auditorium, the lights abruptly went out and plunged the entire place into darkness. My agent rushed to the stage just in the nick of time and helped me up.
Even as another gunshot went off seconds later, I remained frozen in place and watched the young woman gasp for air. My heart constricted as if held in a tight grip, and I lost my breath.
My sister’s final moments replayed in my head and crippled my thoughts. Doubling over, I hyperventilated, my mind a muddled mess.
“Mina, for God’s sake! We need to leave! Do you hear me? Mina!” He grabbed my hardened face in his hands. “Pull yourself together. Hmm? If not for yourself and me, then for that person.”
I averted my eyes, feeling a sudden clarity wash over my mind. He- he was right. I had to leave. Right now! Running to the backstage, every door and entrance on our path shut down one by one.
The whole place was on lockdown. After making a break for it, and losing my agent along the way, I managed to find an unlocked door in the hallway and jumped off from the second floor.
Photo by Megs Harrison on Unsplash
As the window shattered into a thousand pieces, the shards of glass cut into my skin. A heap of garbage next to the towering building mitigated the impact of the fall.
I let out a painful groan as I fell onto my arm, feeling the sharp sting of glass piercing my skin before rolling to the side.
Startled, I looked up, my breath catching in my throat, as the deafening sound of a gunshot reverberated through the air. Another red dot appeared on my body, this time around my ribcage.
I stumbled back up on my feet as people all around me went into panic mode and shoved one another aside to get into safety. I crossed the street as cars came to an abrupt standstill left and right and sought refuge in an alleyway out of immediate sight.
Taking cover behind a waste container, I struggled to catch my breath as a searing pain jolted me into full alertness. I winced, and I looked down at my bleeding arm. Stifling the groans trying to escape, I pulled out as much of the glass as possible, then tore off a piece of my sweatshirt and wrapped it around my arm
Drenched in a cold sweat and delirious from the pain, I reached into my pocket and retrieved my phone.
“Come on! Pick up the damn phone!”
“Mina, are you okay—”
“Change of plans. Proceed as we talked. This is the last time you’ll hear from me.”
I ended the call. With my head pressed against the wet stone walls, I could feel my heart racing, as if it was trying to escape from my chest.
Each breath I took came in short, laboured gasps, and my throbbing arm numbed all my senses.
I was going to die, I just knew. But I forced my eyes open, refusing to let death take my body until it was all over.
Panting, my chest rising and falling at a much slower rate, a notification finally came through. With the last ounce of strength left in me, I leaned against the walls and staggered towards the rain-soaked streets riddled with innocent blood.
Struggling to breathe, I looked up just as my legs gave way under me and heaved a sigh of relief.
The LED display showed the footage of a high-ranking politician raping a child, its chilling cries helpless as it eventually took its last breath.
The footage then shifted, revealing another well-known figure in the publishing industry, a bestselling author, buying a child – his face on full display, his wicked grin vivid.
One by one, the footage exposed the monsters on the invitation list that was never leaked to the public, their faces and sick acts going down in history as a chilling reminder of humanity’s darkest days.
It was finally over. It was finally—I looked up. In the moonlit night, military helicopters appeared and targeted everything that moved.
The stunned masses stood frozen, their faces glued to the LED display, showing the truth before it too was shot down.
I glanced at my phone as the footage of child rape, sexually motivated murders, and gore continued to play on the screen.
The common people, now actively shot at random, kept their eyes on their phones, witnessing the horrors of the broken system.
The carnage spared nothing and no one in its path. No one got away – not even children.
Then again, children were perceived as sexual objects meant to satisfy the perverted needs of a bunch of deranged monsters disguised as humans…
I forced myself up and stumbled into the crimson-coloured streets to join the ongoing massacre. My eyes landed on the helpless souls of babies, the elderly, and the young.
At that moment, I was convinced. I was convinced that I had to save these people. I was the one they were looking for.
So I screamed. At the top of my lungs, I screamed until blood gushed out of every membrane and pore.
Time stood still.
The sound of the helicopter grew louder and louder as it circled above me, the shooter poised and ready to strike.
With my eyes facing the nocturnal sky, I screamed again, and as I did that, I spread my arms wide, embracing death.
The first bullet struck me square in the chest, knocking the wind out of me and leaving a burning sensation in its wake. The second one hit my abdomen.
As I collapsed, all eyes shifted towards me. I saw an inkling of a wicked smile on the shooter’s face as the helicopter drew nearer.
That would be his last smile.
Someone shot him.
Before everything plunged into darkness and all sounds drowned out, I saw the common people snap back to reality and stand up against the system.
The number of helicopters doubled in a matter of minutes, shooting even the chilly air, but the growing crowd stood their ground against the corrupted forces and did not back off.
Heaving for air, I turned my head and looked into the distance, my time running out for every passing second.
Sara…? My sister’s face appeared among the sea of warriors as they took back control of their lives. She smiled at me.
I closed my eyes and felt the cool night breeze brush against my skin as I turned towards the night sky.
My chest rose and fell in a slow beat while all hell broke loose around me.
“You did the right thing, Mina.”
“But I made so many people die…”
“There are times when you have to trade one life for another.”
“But at what cost? It’s bound to happen again. Those types of people always find a way to slip through the cracks and continue their wicked ways.”
“Then someone else will step up and do the right thing. Just like you.”
“I- I don’t know what to think anymore.”
“Already regretting it?”
“I don’t.”
“We’ll meet again then, the two of us, in another life.”
“Take me with you. I want to see you.”
“Your time’s not up. You have so much more ahead of you. This is only the beginning.”
“I don’t want this. I just want to see you.”
“When the time’s right, you will. Now open your eyes and breathe.”
With a sudden jolt, I gasped and my eyes snapped open. Someone pulled me up and carried me on their back.
My sister’s words kept ringing in my ears as the carnage behind me slowly faded away. ‘This is only the beginning.’
The End.
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