VALERIE.
I haven't been able to sleep properly since that night.
Not because I'm afraid of what might happen to me, hell, I've been through worse. But because every time I close my eyes, I see her face. Amelia. Bleeding, broken, still.
It didn't make sense.
I mean yeah, I've hated her for a while. I'm not even going to pretend like I was one innocent bystander in all this, I said nasty things, spread rumours, in fact did nasty things. Laughed at her in front of people, hit her once or twice. But what happened that night? That wasn't me. That couldn't have been me.
Because when I replay it in my head, her screams, the way my fists connected with her skin over and over again, I don't recognise the girl doing it.
It wasn't even rage. It felt like….something else. Like I wasn't in
