Ava: After killing Justice If memory serves, killing Justice wasn’t part of our plan, well mine actually since I contrived everything up. It was supposed to be simple, deceptively so. An effervescent charge darts through me as I recall how I manically orchestrated it. It was my job to get her to Fox Park, to a place secluded by witch-looking trees that dip low to kiss the ground as if a giant appeared from the clouds and stomped on them. A place our gated community called the junk room but Justice dubbed it The Crimson Hideaway. It was easy to get her there because I’d used celebrating as an excuse. Justice got the Head Girl position I had been longing for, but I wasn’t angry. How could I when I was going to get even? “It’s been a long time since we came down this dump, huh?” she said when I guided her to the broken and battered building we’d tu

Thana: After killing Justice We all duck at the same time, knees knocking against the hard floor, our next breath catching in our throats refusing to give us some solace. The light darts over my face, two sharp orbs penetrate through my vision. From the intensity of the light rays, I know it’s only a matter of time before whoever is out there discovers the abandoned junk room. “Nobody should move a muscle,” Skylar hisses from underneath remnants of a window sill. It’s akin to hiding behind a sieve, hoping no one sees through the holes. She doesn’t need to repeat herself. Everything inside me is frozen solid, the blood in my veins, the oxygen in my lungs. I can’t feel anything besides the terror hammering at my chest like a feral animal locked up in a cage. Ava, however, slides from my left, moving out of my view. It takes a while for my brain to register her movement, that she’s

 Thana: After killing Justice Ironically, it’s the sickly loud silence that wakes me up the next morning. I don’t know how I manage to pry my eyelids open because last night I squeezed them painfully shut to blackout all images of Justice’s half milky white eyeball looking up at me. I learnt a valuable thing from the surreal night. That fear was my stalker. It followed me from Fox Park all the way home. It crawled up on me like a creeping living thing till I woke up in between hours with a strangled cry only I could hear. Events from last night come rushing to me. I remember peeling off my blood-stained clothes thankful that I had dressed in black and dumped them on my bathroom floor. It wasn’t easy getting back into my room because every time I so much as moved a muscle on that old rickety ladder behind my window, I feared I would wake someone up. My dad and Nabil are heavy sleepers but not Kieran. My st

Anonymous: Before Justice gets killed The hotel room is medium-sized and definitely not shabby at all. Everything is decorated with calming hues of beige. The gauzy brown curtains are on every side of me. There’s a long glass cane table at the centre of the room, chairs that are positioned facing each other giving me the intimacy I crave. I avoid the windows in the room because they are too enormous, too wide and disobey discretion to the fullest. The roman wall clock directly above the four-inch telly tells me she’s late. She’s always late, as though she hasn’t the care or regret for being so. As if I’m not someone she needs to rush over to. I stifle a sigh as I wait for her arrival and the minutes tick by till there’s a notification on my phone. At best, she’s apologetic and at worst, she’s an hour late. Moving over to the door, I unlock it and return to my seat. She prefers to sit on the bed

Skylar: After killing Justice I’m not a fan of superstition, but if these staggering photos are anything to go by, I’ll say this is definitely a bad omen. The pictures splayed on the floor tell us we were being watched that night. The realization makes my skin crawl. If we bury Justice’s body, that’ll give whoever has decided to mess with our heads the perfect opportunity to take another picture. One so incriminating the police won’t have to even question us on if we killed her or not. And if we don’t, we’re still in trouble. So we’re damned if we do and damned if we don’t. Perfect. Just frigging fantastic. “We can’t bury her here in Fox Park.” If no one will say it, I will. Thana makes an audible gagging sound behind me and I retch myself from her, afraid she would vomit anytime soon. “She stinks,” she mumbles behind