Chapter 3 - No consequences
Minutes before death.
The school corridor became an arena. The students' eyes were fixed in Pietra Nanez Rodrigues - imposing, cruel, and acclaimed. With strong hands, she held the arm of a nerd student named Alves, as if he were just a doll.
- Look you! A moist! She screamed with contempt.
- Not even a punch can give! You are garbage, a coward!
Without warning, he fell on a direct punch to the stomach of Alves, who bent with a dry moan. The laughs started.
Then a brutal header in the throat. Alves fell to the floor, writhing, with difficulty breathing.
And around it? Palms. Screams. Glorification.
- Queen Pietra! - Some said.
She laughed. Shone. As if he had won a fair battle. As if it were invincible.
Matur observed everything in the distance.
He felt the blood boil, his fists close. Hatred. A deep, deep hatred. How could that girl be so scrotum? A sociopathic narcissist ... and still be worshiped as if it were an example.
Pietra celebrated with her athletes, men and women. Like a bunch of hyenas around the carrion.
On the way out, before leaving, he kicked the stomach of Alves, which spat blood on the school floor.
The nearest teacher did nothing. He didn't even lift the eyes of the book he read.
Matur squeezed the teeth. Impunity was unbearable.
Pietra was not over yet.
He bent down, grabbed Alves's hair and whispered:
"If you report me to the director, I will tear my teeth myself." One by one. Did you understand?
He released his hair, turned like a scoring queen and left with her entourage, leaving the nerd dropped, moaning.
No one helped.
Except rain.
He approached, lowered and reached out.
- Hi, Alves ... Do you want help?
The boy, still trembling, murmured:
- Aren't you going to hit me?
"I'm not like that daughter of the narcissistic bitch."
Alves held the hand of the grout. Together they got up and went to class in silence. But the gesture was recorded in both.
---
Later.
Pietra was on the school bus, laughing with her friends.
- Hey! Today the party is in my mansion. My parents will travel, the house will just be mine!
- Rule number one: Bring drink, drugs, and lots of music. Let's make noise to the skies!
Everyone nodded with excitement. One of his closest friends, Breno, asked:
- How many hours, Pietra?
- When my parents leave, I call you with the "green light." Warns the crowd. Today we will celebrate in style.
She smiled. But something in his gaze changed by staring at the window.
They passed humble houses, simple families, cars with ordinary clothes swinging with the wind.
Pietra didn't look away. He just watched, with silent coldness, even with his friends laughing by his side.
---
Upon arriving home, the parents were ready to leave. The mansion was large, silent, cold.
- Are you going out now? Asked Pietra.
"Yes, daughter," said Hendarez, the father. - Our private flight is about to leave.
"I'm glad you know how to take care of yourself, as always," said the mother, Biana.
"No thief will come in here," Pietra said, smiling. "And if you get in, I give a beautiful beating in it."
- That's my daughter! Said Hendarez. - Fighting classes were worth it.
"Take care," she said. "I promise not to move your things."
Hugs. Kisses. Promises.
Minutes later, the gate closed behind the limo. The mansion was now just hers.
Pietra took the phone and called Breno.
- You can call the crowd, it's already released.
- Perfect! I'll warn everyone!
Before she turned off, she murmured:
- Breno ... I need to tell you something.
- What?
"Do you know that nerd I beat today?" Alves?
- Yes, that lower class mood ... What does it have?
Pietra hesitated. His eyes were heavy.
The floor seemed to move. The head turned.
- He and I ... we had ...
Thump!
The cell phone fell to the floor. On the other end of the line, Breno panicked.
- Pietra?! It is good too? What there was?!
Nothing.
No answer.
Pietra was on her knees, her hands pressing her own neck, choking without any control. The air disappeared. The lungs burned.
Her eyes widened, her legs kicked the floor, trying to resist anything.
- Pietra! This is not funny! Answer me! Shouted Breno. - I'll call the police!
But Pietra couldn't breathe.
His own hands were strangling her against her will.
The skin was purple. The damp eyes, confused.
"Me ... Help ..." She whispered, with one last thread.
And then… silence.
Pietra Nanez Rodrigues fell dead on the floor of the mansion, his eyes open, his hands still in his neck.
Suffocated. Alone.
The most cruel death it could have.
---
On the red phone screen, an image appeared. Pietra's face photo at the very moment of his death.
Matle stared at the screen.
His room was absolutely silent.
Her heart beat hard. The sweaty hands. The wide eyes.
And a unique thought echoed in your mind:
- ... it can't be.
---
If you want, I can continue with Chapter 4 - The Weight of Blood, where a range deals with the psychological consequences of real death, and the cell phone begins to show that each death ... leaves a price. Do you want to continue?