Killing Justice

Chapter 1

Skylar: Before killing Justice

We’re good girls, I promise. Thana, Ava and I. We didn’t mean for this to happen; for Justice to die. It was meant to be a joke, some form of payback for terrorizing Thana all year, for being a bitch to me and for backstabbing Ava. You’d think being Justice Ortega’s best friend will make you untouchable. But when fire catches, everything and everyone burns.

I can’t grasp everything that happened. The events slip through my fingers like sand. Here’s what I know: Our plan went south the minute I lost my temper. I’m the reason everything went wrong.

Ava was supposed to lure Justice to Fox Park. They were to get cozy with the chips and beverages Thana and I laid out for them. Hell, I even brought along The Sound Of Music because, in year ten, I overheard Justice telling Ava she secretly loved it. That she lied to Victor Asante, her kind-of-maybe boyfriend, when she said it was lame and too vintage. I remember Ava smiling up at me from the murky floor in the girl’s bathroom. I’d thought then that Ava Hernaez would never be caught dead crouching in front of two strangers. Because that’s what we all were. Strangers with one thing in common. Justice.

So when Ava said she had a way of solving all our problems, I listened. When she instructed me to crack Justice’s head over with a rock, I did. Mind you, it was only to render her unconscious, not to make any permanent damage.

Ava said to tie her up because I’m the strongest among the three of us. She said to place her at the far left corner away from moonlight so we could hide in the shadows, not letting anything expose our faces. Ava said to cover them though with ski masks she purchased from a thrift store so our voices were muffled. So we did what we were told because Ava said so. Ava said. Ava said.

Then, I looked at Thana, expecting her to cower, wanting her to, because then if she did, I’d have a good enough excuse not to take part. One thing I hate for anyone to call me is a coward, even after what Justice did to me. Everyone is frightened of Justice and her razor-sharp tongue. But not me. I always saw past her mean girl exterior and encountered nothing but a spoiled brat.

When Justice regained consciousness, I was albeit scared. What if she recognized our voices? What if she saw through our masks? What if she wasn’t terrified enough to do what we asked?

One thing I learnt that night was this: fear can be a major deterrent. Justice did everything we told her to. We scared the daylights out of her, frightened her out of her very own skin like she did to Thana. We humiliated her in the worst possible way. It wasn’t just for kicks and giggles. We were converting a mean girl in our own way. The only way we could. This is why we’re good, because the world would’ve been a better place without cruel girls like Justice Ortega.

Afterwards, we intended to leave Justice conked up in front of the old abandoned tv and the food we’d accumulated was to give her refuge. She was supposed to be bound by the ropes we bought. Later, we’d split up and return to our world of being complete strangers to one another. Justice would be none the wiser. Someone, a regular of Fox Park, would stumble upon her and take her home. We were betting on that. It was meant to be simple. But we lost control of the situation that night. I did that. All I can think of now is Justice is dead. Dead as a doornail, dead. The blood on the white tiles told me so.