Remnant Of A Guilty Past
1432 Words
I Slowly, I turned it over.
The moment I saw it—
“No!”
My suspicions were confirmed.
I flung the photograph away as if it had burned my fingers.
The image flashed in my mind again.
And again.
And again.
Voices I hadn’t heard in years erupted inside my head, screaming over one another until I couldn’t tell where one ended and the next began.
My legs gave out.
I crashed onto the floor and scrambled backward, dragging myself across the ground until my back slammed against the wall.
I clutched my head with both hands, desperately trying to shut the voices out.
Trying not to look at the photograph.
Trying not to remember.
No.
No.
No.
“Joey!”
Ron rushed toward me, his voice distant beneath the noise in my skull.
“What was in that photo?” he demanded, turning to Esdeath.
“See for yourself,” she replied.
That same smile remained on her face.
Unwavering.
Unchanging.
As if she had known exactly what would happen the moment I turned the photograph over.
Ron bent down and picked up the photograph.
“What could possibly be on here?”
The confusion on his face lasted only a second before it was replaced by surprise.
“What is this?” he asked, turning to Esdeath. “Joey doesn’t have a family.”
I squeezed my eyes shut.
But it was too late.
The image was already burned into my mind.
My father stood at the center, his arm draped over my shoulder.
My mother smiled beside him.
My older brother stood behind us, pretending not to care about the picture while my two little sisters clung to my sides.
It had been taken six years ago.
I was twenty-one.
The day I officially became a detective.
The day I felt most fulfilled.
The last time my family was ever photographed together.
My anguish turned into anger.
I pushed myself off the floor and glared at Esdeath.
“Joey, what’s going on?” Ron asked. “What do you want to do?”
I couldn’t think straight.
All I could think about was hurting Esdeath.
I lunged at her.
Or at least, I tried to.
Two men immediately grabbed my arms and held me in place.
“Aren’t we getting a bit hot-headed here?” Esdeath said, her voice dripping with amusement.
“Where did you get that photo?” I snarled.
“Well, that’s a secret,” she replied. “But I can tell you why we have it.”
“What the hell are you two talking about?” Ron asked.
“Oh, Ronny dear, you must be terribly confused.” Esdeath smiled. “Allow me to explain.”
A chill ran down my spine.
“Joey Johnson here…” she began. “Or should I say, Grant Harvey…”
The room fell silent.
“…isn’t who you think he is.”
“Joey, what the f**k is she talking about?” Ron asked.
Our eyes met.
I looked away.
The shame was unbearable.
Ron had been my only real friend since I moved to Rave City, yet I had never told him who I really was.
I couldn’t blame him if he felt betrayed.
“The child prodigy detective,” Esdeath continued, “the boy who brought down the underboss of the Venceni family all by himself at just twenty-one.”
“What is she talking about, Joey?” Ron demanded.
“I can explain, man,” I said quietly.
Esdeath’s smile widened.
“Do you want to tell him, or should I?”
I stared at her with pure contempt.
I had never hated anyone this much.
“I’ll tell him myself,” I said. “Let me go.”
The men hesitated before looking to Esdeath.
After a moment, she gave a small nod.
“Let him go.”
They released me.
I rolled my shoulders and took a deep breath.
Then I walked toward Ron.
“Look, man, this may be sudden, but I really need you to hear me out,” I began.
“My real name is Grant Harvey, and I’m originally from Attenio—”
“But you told me you came from Piccadilly County,” Ron interrupted.
I lowered my head.
“I know. I haven’t exactly been honest with you, and I think it’s time I came clean.”
I took a deep breath.
“Attenio was a city under the thumb of the Venceni Mafia. My family lived there my entire life. Ever since I was a kid, I dreamed of becoming a detective and taking down the criminals who plagued my city.”
I paused before continuing.
“When I was fourteen, I entered a special training program for aspiring investigators. I excelled at it. My instructors and everyone called me ‘The Child Prodigy.’ My deductions, observations, and ability to solve cases made me the best trainee in the program.”
A bitter smile crossed my face.
“At seventeen, I became a junior detective. Despite my age, my skills rivaled detectives with decades of experience.”
I looked down at my hands.
“But talent doesn’t make you wise.”
“I was exceptional, but arrogant. Brilliant, but ignorant.”
“And one day, I almost achieved my dream.”
“What do you mean?” Ron asked.
“After becoming a junior detective, I started conducting my own investigations into the Venceni family. I wanted enough evidence to destroy them once and for all—evidence that their money and influence couldn’t make disappear.”
“It wasn’t easy. I was working alone.”
I clenched my fists.
“But after four years, when I was twenty-one, I finally did it.”
I looked Ron in the eyes.
“I brought down the Venceni underboss.”
“What?” Ron exclaimed.
“Impressive, isn’t he?” Esdeath said with a smile.
I ignored her.
“My investigation was so thorough that the Vencenis couldn’t protect him. They were forced to cut ties with him publicly and let him fall.”
I laughed once.
There wasn’t any humor in it.
“I was ecstatic.”
“The department promoted me to Lead Detective. I became the youngest person in Attenio’s history to ever hold the rank.”
My voice grew quieter.
“And that’s why I hate myself.”
“What do you mean?” Ron asked.
I glanced at the photograph.
“The photo you’re holding was taken on the day I received that promotion.”
My throat tightened.
“It was the happiest day of my life.”
“The day I felt most fulfilled.”
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then I forced myself to continue.
“The next day, my house burned down.”
Ron froze.
“My mother died.”
“My father died.”
“My brother died.”
“My sisters died.”
“Everyone.”
The room was silent.
“I knew it wasn’t an accident.”
“The Vencenis couldn’t kill me through the law, and I don’t think they ever wanted to kill me but instead.”
I swallowed hard.
“They killed the people I loved.”
My voice trembled.
“And they left me alive.”
“Alive to remember.”
“Alive to regret.”
“Alive to understand that my greatest achievement had cost me everything.”
I closed my eyes.
“After that, I resigned from the force. I convinced myself it was to prevent anyone else from getting hurt.”
“But the truth was simpler.”
“I couldn’t stand looking at myself anymore.”
The guilt I’d carried for years weighed down every word.
“I hated that I survived.”
“I hated that they died because of me.”
“I hated that I still wanted to keep living after what happened.”
A tear rolled down my cheek.
“So I ran.”
“I left Attenio.”
“I changed my name.”
“I buried Grant Harvey.”
I looked at Ron.
“I caused my family’s deaths.”
My voice was barely above a whisper.
“And despite that, I still chose to save myself.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Disgusting, isn’t it?”
I glanced toward Esdeath.
“I said earlier that I’ve never hated anyone the way I hate Esdeath.”
I shook my head.
“That wasn’t true.”
My eyes drifted to the floor.
“The person I hate most…”
“…is me.”
- Writer
