- for new beginnings.

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SEPTEMBER 2, 2018
3:22 AM

Present day...

All I could think about as Oscar looked around the crime scene was how absolutely fucked I was. Blood was everywhere. So much stuff was broken and we were at the top of a skyscraper in the middle of downtown Los Angeles. I'm so, positively, absolutely fucked.

I was sitting on one of the couches shaking like a leaf in the wind as Oscar looked at the damage. I refused to cry again, though. I couldn't be weak. Being weak get's you nowhere. I had to be strong. And strong is handling my shit.

"I'm gonna call some of the guys," Oscar spoke up, pulling me out of my reverie. I looked over at him, trying not to focus on the dead body at his feet. "Go home and clean yourself up. We'll handle it."

I shook my head, standing up and facing him. "No way. I'm staying. I'm helping."

He sighed, exasperatedly. "Ramona, I'm not in the mood for your 'I wanna be included!' whining," he complained, mocking my voice as he bent down to poke a stain of blood in the carpet.

"That's not what this is!" I defended, offended by his words.

He chuckled, disbelievingly, his concentration still on the blood, "What the fuck is it then?"

"Oh, I don't know? Maybe because the last time I left you to clean up my mess you ended up in prison!" I yelled, stepping towards him.

"That wasn't the reason why and you know that," he said, avoiding eye contact.

"Yeah? Well its gonna be the reason this time because I don't know if you noticed, but this is gonna be much more difficult than getting a dead body out of a party where everyone there is almost blacked out," I said, angrily. "We're at the top of a skyscraper, in the middle of downtown LA. Witnesses are everywhere! And non to mention the blood stains and broken shit in here! No, I'm not leaving you to do this alone. You won't be careful enough."

"Fine! What do you suppose we do then, Mona?" he asked, finally looking up at me. "Since you wanna be included and not listen to the guy who has done this hundreds of times. Please, tell me what your plan is!"

I closed my eyes and took a breath before looking at him. "First," I started. "We clean. I think I know where the supply closet is. I'll get dish soap to get the stains out. We clean up all the broken glass, throw away anything that can't be salvaged and then put everything back to how it was. We use bleach to wipe down everything  - including the murder weapon. Second, we get the body out of here unseen. How we're gonna do that, I haven't thought of yet, but I will. Third, we do what we need to do to him and the weapon to make sure no one finds either ever again."

He stood up and crossed his arms. "We need to have all three steps done before sun up," he added, stating the facts. "Which is in three hours."

I nodded, determined. "We better get started then." I went towards the door, but his voice made me stop.

"You know, I thought you'd be way more shaken up," he called out.

I stood still for a second, thinking, before I turned around to face him. "I was," I shrugged. "But there's no time for that now. If someone finds that corpse I'll never get famous."

I wish I could just call 911 and tell them the truth. I could plead self defense, but telling people what really went down here tonight would do more harm to me than any kind of good. I would be blackballed. No one in Hollywood, or anywhere for that matter, would want to work with me. Chris was a great guy, but something told me that he wouldn't want to keep a client that killed his boss. And even if Chris didn't mind, other people wouldn't care about what David did - about what happened to me. I was a girl with nothing to my name. He was a multimillionaire who owned a very successful talent agency. No one would believe me.

Maybe that's why none of the others girls came out with the truth. They knew the same thing would happen to them. Or maybe some of them did and no one cared. Society never listens to the victim.

"I'm going to find the supply closet," I whispered, turning around and exiting the room.

The roof was empty besides a few janitors still cleaning the after the party mess. They were all in their own worlds with headphones in as they swept and put trash in trash bags, so slipping by them and into the elevator was no problem. I went to the first floor because that was where the front desk office was with the mailing room, so I figured the cleaning supplies might be down there, too.

And as usual, I was right.

It was located at the end of the hallway and I quickly ducked inside. It was full of cleaning carts, cleaning chemicals, brooms, mops and even a few janitor uniforms. I grabbed a trash bag and pushed all kinds of chemicals and supplies into it. I stuffed two janitor outfits inside because I needed to get out of this dress quickly. It was way too glamorous and caught everyone's attention. I needed to go unseen and so did Oscar. I grabbed a broom and then I walked into the hallway. It was clear except for a few stragglers in the lobby who hadn't left yet.

I quickly ran to the elevator and went up to the top floor. The janitors were still on the roof, completely oblivious as I slid back into the room. Oscar was dragging David's body to the side of the room as I walked in. I closed and locked the door behind me before throwing the garbage bag in the middle of the floor.

"Time to get this shit started."

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SEPTEMBER 2, 2018
5:34 AM

Oscar was putting all of the furniture back to their original positions. I was wiping down everything with the bleach. We had scrubbed all of the blood stains out of the carpet along with the little specks that ended up on the walls or close pieces of furniture. It took us two hours and now we were in a rush.

"What should we do about the table?" I asked, looking at the broken wood from when David pulled me backwards.

"We throw it out," he answered, pushing the filing cabinet back into the corner. "This place has a lot of tables, I doubt they'll miss it. And your friend said they barely use the room, anyways. With this fucker gone no one should really be in here."

"Okay," I nodded. He picked up one of the recently cleaned up drawers from the floor and began putting it back in the cabinet. I stopped wiping down the fireplace, staring at it. That filing cabinet contained so much pain from so many different kinds of girls. I wanted to do something with it, but I didn't know what I could do.

Oscar turned around to grab the second drawer when something across the room caught his eye. I followed his line of sight as he began walking towards it. My eyes fell on a file sitting by the broken coffee table.

"Wait!" I called out and he stopped, looking at me confused.

I rushed over and picked it up. I glanced inside and saw Tallula's face before closing it again. I looked up at him and held the file up. "I want to keep this one."

"Whose is that?"

"Tallula Reid," I answered.

"The super hot Victoria Secret model?"

I nodded, looking back down at the yellow folder. "Yeah."

"Do you know her or something?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No, not really."

I wished I knew her, but I only talked to her for a total of ten minutes tonight. Although, she seemed to like me. Hopefully enough to consider me a friend.

I was enveloped in sadness thinking about what happened to her. I already felt so violated and helpless and broken by what David did to me, I couldn't imagine how she must feel knowing he went all the way with her.

I was so deep into my own thoughts I didn't notice the sorrowful look Oscar was giving me. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, quietly.

I looked up at his eyes and for the first time in so long they were so.... soft. His brown eyes had a gloss over them as he stared down at me.

I shook my head. "No, thanks."

"It's not good to keep stuff bottled in like this, Mona," he reprimanded. "We didn't talk about it after that night in Brentwood. I should have been a better boyfriend and talked about it with you. But I won't make the same mistake again. Talk to me. Tell me what you're feeling."

"You're not my boyfriend," I shot back, quickly. "You made that pretty clear after I caught you with Kendall and before you choked me."

He wanted to tell me something, but nothing came out of his parted lips. I shook my head. "Come on. We're running out of time and we still gotta finish this and get this asshole out of here."

I walked back to the fireplace and continued scrubbing it with bleach. I could see Oscar return to the filing cabinet out of the corner of my eye, but I didn't acknowledge his presence. I focused on what I had to do, instead. Just keep wiping, Ramona. Just keep wiping.

We continued to clean silently for the next half and hour. When we were finished we threw everything back into the garbage bag, including the broken furniture after taking out the janitor uniforms.

I began to take off the dress, leaving me in nothing but my underwear since I couldn't wear a bra with the dress. I felt eyes on me and I turned to see Oscar staring lustfully at me.

"Stop being horny and put this on," I ordered, throwing the grey janitor uniform at him. He caught it, snapping out of his daydream that probably included me doing some very vulgar things with him. I finished putting the jumpsuit on, untucking my hair from it as I added, "We still have to get him out of here."

"Have you figured out how we're gonna do that?" he asked, stripping his clothes and putting on the uniform.

"I don't know, why don't you fucking think of something for once!?" I exclaimed, angrily. "I had to think of all of this!"

"Cleaning off fingerprints and putting the crime scene back to normal isn't special," he scoffed, zipping up the jumpsuit. "That's like the one thing everyone knows to do when you kill someone."

"Okay fine Mr. I've Done This A Thousand Times, what's your plan to get the dead body out of here unseen?" I asked, becoming fed up with his know it all attitude.

He smirked. "We look like janitors. Why don't we use the one thing janitors always have with them?"

I crinkled my forehead in confusion before it finally dawned on me. A cleaning cart. I rolled my eyes, "I take credit for half of that idea. I'm the one who brought up the uniforms."

"Hell nah," he denied, "You can't tell me to come up with something and then take credit."

"I just did," I shrugged, nonchalantly.

"White people always taking credit for some shit they didn't do," he mumbled, knowing it'd get a reaction out of me.

I glared at him. "Call me white again and you'll be in the same predicament as David over there." I nodded towards his dead body.

He glanced at him before looking back at me. "Yeah, about that," he dragged out, "We need to hurry up. I'll go get the cart."

"First floor. Last door at the end of the hall," I told him. He nodded and I watched him leave.

I looked down at the bloodied, discarded dress on the floor. Cam is going to be so mad at me. She spent two years designing this dress and another eight months making it. Should I even tell her what happened? I had to, right? She's going to ask about the dress, especially when I give her the business card that lady gave me. I never told her what happened with James, but this? She deserved to know about this.

I slowly walked over to David's decomposing body. It didn't look much different, maybe a little paler. My mind flashed back to my mother's funeral all those years ago. Shay told me before going up to the casket about how she didn't look dead, she just looked like she was sleeping. It was a useless attempt at trying to console me, and to no surprise when I got up there, she didn't look like she was sleeping. I had seen my mother asleep numerous times and she didn't look like that at all. She looked dead.

And so did David.

I stared down at him, emotionless. I brought my leg back and did one swift kick to his ribs. His body barely budged and I just kept kicking. Tears were coming out of my eyes now. He deserved so much worse than a quick death. He should've suffered just like me and hundreds of other girls have to do because of him.

I was caught up in my angry, kicking tantrum I didn't even notice Oscar walk back with the cart.

"What's kicking a dead guy going to do?" he asked and I instantly stopped, quickly spinning to face him. I could feel the tears staining my cheeks and I'm sure my eyes were red from all the crying (and the fact it's almost six in the morning and I haven't slept).

"I don't know," I cried, my voice scratchy. "Make me feel better?" It was a question, not a statement because I didn't know what the point of it was, either.

"Do you feel better?" he questioned.

I slowly shook my head and whispered, "No."

He gave me a sad look before taking a breath and rolling the cart further in the room. "Come on. It's almost six. Thirty minutes until the sun rises."

I wiped my cheeks and walked over to where the cart was. I grabbed another trash bag and began stuffing Oscar and I's old clothing inside. I tied it off and threw it in the bag attached to the cart. Oscar pulled David's body over and I raised the yellow flaps that covered the bottom level of the cart where extra cleaning supplies were supposed to go.

I helped Oscar cram his body inside the small space which wasn't easy. He was so fucking heavy. Once we pushed all his limbs inside and in a secure spot, we brought the flaps back down so no one could see him.

"I'm going to bring my car from the parking to around the back, so no one on the street sees us put him in. Can you bring him down undetected?" he asked, walking to the door.

I nodded. "Yeah, I got this."

"Okay, give me two minutes then follow behind me."

I nodded again and he watched him leave. After the door shut I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked to see if I had any notifications. There was nothing but a couple texts from Zahra and Cam asking how everything went. I would have to tell Cam, but did I have to tell Zahra? I could lie, but that mean I would be breaking the Sister Pact not just once, but twice because I didn't tell her about James, either. She's so young. She didn't need to hear about this. About what I had to do. I was protecting her.

The two minutes had been up and I snapped out of my thoughts. I grabbed Tallula's file from the desk and tucked it inside my uniform before exiting the room, giving it one last once over before pushing the cart out and closing the door behind me. I pushed the cart towards the elevator and saw none of the janitors were there anymore. I got on and pushed the button for floor one.

The ride down seemed to be long and excruciating and I was becoming more and more scared as each second passed and I realized what was happening. I have a dead person in this cart right now. A very important dead person. The doors dinged open before I had the chance to start hyperventilating and I quickly pushed the cart out.

I peaked out and saw the hall was completely empty this time. I took a breath of relief before backing out with the cart and taking a right towards the back of the building. I passed the janitors closet as I took a left towards the back doors that were on the right. I made it under the bright exit sign before using the cart to bust the door open. I saw the bright red impala sitting in dark alley with the engine running and took off towards it.

Oscar hopped out and met me at the trunk. He opened it as I lifted up the yellow flaps. He yanked David out by his feet and I grabbed under his arms as we lifted him into the trunk. The sounds of city life and cars whooshing by made background noise as we committed a felony. I took the two trash bags out of the trash attached to the cart and threw them on top of the body.

Before Oscar could slam the trunk closed I reached in ripped open the trash bag with cleaning chemicals in it. I took out the bleach and one of the unused rags and poured bleach onto it. I closed the jug before throwing back in the trunk and turning towards the cart. I began to frantically wipe it down, removing the fingerprints and blood. When I was done I threw the rag back in and closed the trunk. I pushed the cart next to the back doors and ran back to the classic car, jumping in and slamming the door shut behind me.

Oscar took off so fast down the alleyway the velocity pushed me back into the seat. He turned onto the main road, his tires squeaking.

"What time is it?" he asked, concentrating on the road.

I took my phone back out of the pocket. "6:08."

"We got twenty minutes."

"Where are we going? Can we make it there in time?" I asked, becoming scared.

"We're going to have to," he answered, weaving in and out of traffic. He was going so fast I felt like I was in the Fast and the Furious.

"Oscar, where are we going?" I repeated.

"My house."

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SEPTEMBER 2, 2018
6:28 AM

Oscar almost gave me whiplash with how fast he backed into his driveway. There was no time to complain about it though. The sun was already peaking past the horizon, shining light on a brand new day.

We hopped out together and ran to the trunk. We looked around to make sure the coast was clear before opening the trunk. I pulled the garbage bags out and brought them directly into the backyard. I threw them down by the junk car before running back out and helping Oscar bring the body back. We threw him down by the bags and Oscar locked the gate.

I pushed my hair out of my face, breathing heavily. "What did you bring him here for? You gonna bury him?"

"In my backyard?! How fucking crazy do you think I am?" he raised his voice and I put my hands up in defense. He rolled his eyes and pushed past me. "Nah, we putting this fool in acid."

I watched as he walked towards a blue barrel. "Smart," I agreed, "It'll decompose his body and bones. It'll be like he was never here."

"Exactly. But we gotta do something else before we put him in here," he said, opening the lid.

My eyebrows knitted together. "What?"

"His body not gonna fit in here whole," he hinted and my eyes widened, realizing what he meant.

"Y-You mean we have to chop his body up?" I asked, quickly becoming repulsed.

"Nah, not we," he shook his head, picking up the axe by the bucket and turning around. "Me."

"Oscar, I don't wanna leave you to do it by yourself. I told you I wanted to help," I argued.

He shook his head. "Nah, I got this."

"Oscar, no!" I yelled. "I'm gonna help... cut his body up," I insisted, struggling to say the words.

He looked me up and down before nodding. "Aight, go get the other axe from the shed. I'll set up out here."

I nodded and walked to the back of the backyard towards the shed. I walked inside and began looking around for another axe. After a couple minutes I found one buried under a pile of tools. I pulled it out and almost threw up because it was covered in dried blood.

I held it far out form me as I walked back out. David's body was on some sort of plastic tarp and Oscar had all his limbs spread out. I walked up and held the axe up.

"I'm ready," I said.

He didn't even bother to answer before swinging his axe down on David's arm. I flinched, trying not to look as he kept hacking away at the body. I took a deep breath and focused on his leg before slinging mine down, cutting it clean off.

I was gagging the entire time we were chopping him up. There were two times I actually felt bile rise in my throat, but I forced it down. Unlike me, Oscar was just chopping away with no kind of regret or disgust. It was clear he had done this many times before.

When we were done he picked up the cut up pieces and threw them into the barrel. I heard the acid bubbling, signaling it was burning away all the flesh and bone and by the time we threw in the last foot I felt a little more relieved knowing he was officially gone.

Oscar put the lid on the barrel and we moved on to burning all the evidence. We put the garbage bags in the middle of the yard, including the bloody tarp. I poured the bleach onto the pile and threw it in before Oscar lit a match and tossed it on top.

We watched the pile go up in flames. It flickered so brightly and the warmth radiating from it felt somewhat comforting. It was done. We were finally in the clear, but the weight on my shoulders didn't lift. If anything, it felt more heavy.

Tears were streaming down my face for what seemed like the hundredth time tonight as we watched the mini inferno. "Burn in hell," I whispered to David's ghost.

I felt Oscar glance at me. "You should go shower. I'll finish everything out here," he offered and I looked up at him. For the first time tonight, I did what he told me. I don't know if it was just because I was tired or because he showed me tonight that he was still in my corner, but I listened.

I nodded, walking back out front and closing the gate behind me. I walked inside the house and to the bathroom. I grabbed a towel from the small closet inside and stripped my clothes. I stepped inside the shower and turned the knob, the hot water hitting my body.

I didn't even try to relax in it as I scrubbed away at my skin. I wanted everything about this night off of me. I scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed. When I stepped out my janitor uniform was gone and clothes were sitting on the sink. An oversized black t-shirt and a pair of his boxers. Oscar must have sneaked in and swapped them out.

I pulled on the boxers and threw the shirt over my head. It was so long it reached just above my knees. I untucked my wet hair from the shirt. The pretty curls were gone and so was the makeup. As I looked into the mirror I saw my reflection and I looked so tired. There were prominent bags under my eyes, which were bloodshot. I hadn't seen myself look this way since my mother died and I stayed up all night crying. At least back then there was no blood on my hands.

As I looked at my fatigued reflection all I could see is a murderer.

I braced myself on the sink as I started to cry. I'm a murderer. I've killed two people now. It didn't matter that they deserved it. I thought it did, but it didn't. It didn't change the fact that I took their life from them and that was a weight I had to live with for the rest of my life.

I cried for a few more minutes before sobering up. I wiped my face and finally exited the bathroom. I walked down the hallway and saw Oscar in the kitchen drinking a beer. When he saw me he pushed the bowl sitting on the counter towards me.

"Here. I made you some oatmeal," he said.

I shook my head. "I'm good."

"You needa eat, Mona," he pushed as I took a seat on the stool. "You already behind on sleep. You shouldn't starve, too."

I really was hungry, but I didn't want it because I knew if I ate it I'd just throw it right back up. I felt so sick to my stomach.

I wasn't Ramona, The Protector of Dreams.

I was Ramona, The Murderer.

"Ramona!" Oscar snapped me out of my thoughts. He looked at me, worriedly. "Are you okay?"

Now he wants to care about me.

I shook my head. "I killed someone," I whispered, haunted by my actions. "I killed two people."

He began shaking his head. "No, you can't do this. Not now," he refused, setting his beer down. He took my hands in his and even after all these years - after all the heartbreak - it still felt so right. His hands still fit perfectly with mine and I wanted to never let go. That was, until he spoke again, "There ain't no room for remorse."

My narrowed eyes shot to him before I yanked my hands back. "How the hell would you know that?" I spat, bitterly. "You haven't killed anyone a day in your life!"

"You're really gonna say that after all the shit I just did with you?" he asked, angrily. "I just chopped up a body and put him in acid!"

"That's not killing someone, Oscar!" I shot back, jumping off the stool. I walked away, shaking my head in disbelief before turning around. "You're the big, bad gang leader, but you haven't taken anyone's life. Not like some of your homies have. All this time you've been taking credit for my kill!"

"I did it so in case shit went south it wasn't your ass going to jail!" he defended, walking around the counter and up to me.

"Maybe that was part of the reason, but admit it that you really did it because you needed that street cred! You had just become the leader and you needed them to respect you and the only way they were gonna do that is if you had that!" I accused, pointing to the small, black tattoo that rested under his left eye.

He was glaring at me, menacingly. We had a small staring competition before I sighed, closing my eyes and putting my hands up. I shook my head, "I don't wanna argue with you. I'm too tired."

I plopped down on the couch, defeated. I hung my head down and began to cry again. Oscar's glare disappeared as he quickly sat next to me. He wrapped his arms around me as he cradled me, stroking my hair. "Mona, please talk to me. I know I didn't want to talk when I was locked up, but I do now. Please?" he begged.

"I'm a murderer," I choked out. He pulled away and looked at me, sadly. As sad as he could look. "And please don't tell me there's no room for remorse because there is. There is so much room," I sobbed, putting my face in my hands.

A moment passed of just my crying before he spoke again. "There was a short period where my mom was sober when I was in middle school. It was a school night and I was supposed to be asleep, but I couldn't. Late that night I heard my mom on the phone talking to who I think was my uncle. He wasn't like my dad. He was much softer while my dad was the mean one, kind of like me and Cesar," he started, and I looked over at him through tears. "I think my dad made him kill someone and he wasn't dealing with it well. So my mom quoted this Bible verse to him to try and make him feel better and I never forgot it."

"What was the verse?" I sniffled.

"Corinthians 5:17."

I looked down as I whispered it, "Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature; Old things are passed away, behold, all things are become new."

My mom was Christian, so I grew up hearing all about the Bible. I knew so many verses and stories. She loved her faith, but it never really stuck with me. Still, I knew a lot about it because of her.

"You know I'm not religious, Oscar," I shook my head.

He shrugged, "It don't matter. What matters is that everything you've done, after today, that shit is behind you. It's gone and now you can make a new life for yourself. Your dream life. Don't let your guilt hold you back from that. Trust me, it's not fun."

I met his eyes again, but this time they were glossy. I wiped my cheeks and put my hand on his. "Thank you for helping me."

He gave me a small smile. "I'd do anything for you."

"Yeah, except love me," I joked, sadly as I removed hand from his.

He didn't seem to like my joke.

"You think I would've just cleaned up a crime scene and got rid of a dead body at your request if I didn't love you?" he snapped, offended. "Of course I fucking love your stupid ass!"

"Then why do you fuck other girls and treat me so badly? Why do you refuse to be with me?" I asked, my voice cracking.

He stood up and walked away from me back to the kitchen. I stood up and followed him. "No! You don't get to not give me an explanation. Not again! Tell me why. I deserve to know."

"I don't have an explanation for you, Mona!" he yelled, turning to face me. "I'm a shitty ass person! I treat the people that care about me badly. I fucking jumped my little brother into a gang. I'm not a guy you should be with any fucking way!"

I was silent as the tears fell down my cheeks. I was so sick of crying. I don't even know how I had any tears left at this point. I nodded, finally accepting the truth. He was right. I shouldn't be with him. Any hope I had left was gone. It was truly over for us. "Maybe you're right."

I turned back to the living room and grabbed the file, my phone and my clutch from the table before exiting the house. I didn't even care that I looked like a bum as I walked the few blocks to my house. I just wanted to go home after this long ass night.

The sun was shining and birds were chirping as I walked down the sidewalk. It was a few minutes before I reached my house. When I walked in Shay was in the kitchen cooking some sort of breakfast as music played over the living room speakers.

When she saw me she smiled. "There you are!" she exclaimed, happily. I put on a fake smile. "We were waiting up all night for your glamorous return. Zahra didn't want to go to bed, but she eventually knocked out on the couch and Trevor took her back to her room."

"Sorry, I just lost track of time," I lied, walking up to her. It was quite the opposite, actually.

"Oh, baby. You look a wreck!" she noticed, rushing over to me. She examined my face closely and I pushed her away. She frowned at me. "What happened? Why are you wearing this?"

"I'm fine. I just partied way too hard with the celebrities at the after party," I deflected. "I passed out and one of the girls called Oscar to come get me. I had thrown up on the dress, so he put me in the shower and gave me this to change into."

She looked at me, suspiciously before nodding. "You must be so tired. Please, go get some sleep. I'll make you something to eat when you wake up," she told me and I nodded. She pinched my cheeks and smiled. "I'm so proud of you, Mona. You're really doing this."

I flashed a small, sad smile her way. "Thanks, Shay."

"You're welcome," she nodded. "Now take your ass to bed."

I didn't protest as I trudged towards my room. I hid Tallula's file in my drawer and set everything else on my bedside table. As I climbed into bed, all I could think about was how I hoped Oscar was right.

Maybe I could wash away all the bad things I did tonight and replace it with a new, happier life.

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do u think ramona will be able to wash away all the bad stuff she's done & move on?

i loved writing this moscar centered chapter. we love a couple who kills and hides a body together. theyre such an otp.

↓ oscar & mona bickering back and forth like they dont got only three hours to get rid of a dead body ↓

↓ ramona when she found out they were gonna have to chop up his body ↓