Amanda glared at her sister. "You're kicking me out?"
They had never been close, exactly. Liz had been the good one in the family, but it didn't mean much in the long run. Neither girl had gone to college because their parents couldn't afford the expense. Liz had received some offers offering her as much as half off, but even this meant she would have to get student loans and start paying back immediately after graduating. It hadn't seemed worth it, so Liz started working at Kmart and moved out as soon as she could afford to do so. Their parents lived maybe half as well as Liz did.
Amanda had tried to get a job as a waitress without a great deal of success. She always had a job, but rarely at the same place for more than a few months at a time. Sick of her parents' rules and overpowering attitude, she moved in with her boyfriend, Mike, when she was eighteen. It seemed like a good idea because although she didn't know exactly what he did, he seemed to make enough money.
Looking back, Amanda thought it was probably one of her worse decisions. It wasn't because Mike was abusive or anything. As far as the other guys Amanda had dated, he was probably the best. Mike lived in an apartment on a nice area of the city—not upper class, but far enough from the gangs—helped to get Amanda a job as a waitress not far from the apartment, and (best of all) never made forced Amanda to have sex when she didn't feel like it.
What she hadn't known was that Mike earned money from dealing drugs. He didn't take them, though, just sold them to others. He got her involved with minor trafficking and that was how she had been arrested. As far as she knew, Mike was still selling drugs.
Amanda spent two years in jail and was nearly twenty-one by the time they let her go. By then, she had no money and no knowledge of Mike's whereabouts. Apparently, he had moved. She did manage to locate her sister, and showed up at her apartment hoping to crash until she got a job, expecting only to be there for a few weeks.
Liz let her stay but clearly regretted her decision when she found out that Amanda got addicted to heroin, and cutting herself, while in jail. She made it clear that she wasn't going to finance Amanda's drug problem and if Amanda got arrested, it was her problem. As far as addictions went, Amanda's wasn't terrible. She shot up a few times a week, often when she was stressed or depressed. The only problem was that in order to secure her the pure heroin that she used, she had to get another job as a stripper (and often doing other things for male visitors) in addition to her job as a waitress. Between the two, Amanda made at least five hundred dollars a week, but after paying for drugs and helping her sister with "the rent", she was lucky if she had fifty left over. Three years later, Amanda had found herself in Jigsaw's trap.
Amanda felt as though the world had started spinning in slow motion as the police grabbed her and took her to the car. They had handcuffed her, insisting that it was just a safety precaution, and removed them as soon as they entered a small room inside of the police station.
"We just need you to speak your story while we record it," Tapp explained, upon removing the handcuffs.
Amanda rubbed her abused wrists as she spoke. "Fine."
She told the story and kept expecting Jigsaw to appear at any moment. Even though Tapp and Sing had guns, she had a strange feeling that Jigsaw couldn't be killed by mere bullets. Stupid, maybe, but he seemed super human in her memory. Who else could have created such a hellish contraption?
Once she finished speaking, the police asked her a few questions that she couldn't remember later, and responded in what must have been a satisfactory way. The police said they'd be in touch, but she was free to go.
The police took her back to the apartment. Liz was out. Amanda hadn't been officially kicked out, and anyway, if Liz was serious Amanda still had some stuff she needed to pack.
Once they left, Amanda crept over to her closet, where she kept her reserve stash of heroin. She hadn't used any since the trap, and her body felt its absence. She turned on the light and shut the door behind her as she filled one of her last clean needles.
There was enough for maybe three more decent highs. After that, Amanda would have to either quit, cold turkey, or start leaving the apartment and continue her job as a stripper. Of course, if Liz was kicking her out, she'd have to leave anyway…
She felt her body relaxing as the drug kicked in. Then panic spread. This wasn't the pure stuff. She began to cough, and then vomit.
Just before she passed out, she saw the face of an elderly man looking at her, concerned. He said something, but Amanda couldn't hear him.
Everything went black.