“What have you done?” the headmaster bellowed, all eyes now turned to me as he stood over the lifeless body on the playground.
“I didn’t mean to kill her,” I whispered, loud enough to be heard by the boy behind me. His eyes open in wonder.
“What was that, girl?” the headmaster says, walking towards me, slowly, his shoes clicking on the wooden floor. All at once, everyone looks at me. My vision starts to get blotchy. I squeeze my knife, my heart hammering.
“I said…” I realize I’m whispering. “I said, I DIDN’T MEAN TO KILL HER!” I scream, loud enough for everyone watching to blink their eyes, for the spotlights to be on me.
The audience starts to clap, as I take a bow. It was one heck of a night. Three performances over the course of two days, and two that were today. We walk of the stage slowly. I start to help Liza, the ‘dead body’ off the stage. She doesn’t budge. I start to drag her off.
“Jeez Liza. We’re off the stage now. Can you tell me why you’re doing this sudden drag?” I grit my teeth as I drop her hands. She doesn’t keep them up. She lets them flop down. I look out from where I dragged her. A pile of blood… that’s wasn’t in the script.
“Liza,” my heart hammers. “Liza, get up.” She doesn’t budge. “LIZA!” I see three people sprint towards me, and as they see the lifeless Liza, they scream too. And point at me. I look at my hands. They are bloody.
“It wasn’t me! I swear!” My breaths are short. “Timothy? You were behind me the whole time. Tell them it wasn’t me!” I start crying as I say this. He responds by nodding and sprinting toward the cameras. Someone walks towards me and asks to see my knife. I tell them it’s in the back pocket. Nothing. No knife, no blood. The only place with blood on me is my hands, where I dragged Liza.
As I go to the bathroom to clean off my hands and to call my older sister, I see my knife. I inch towards it carefully. The reflection of the knife reflects that there is something on the mirror.
I look up and see these words. ‘You are next, Ms. Fake Killer.’ As I turn around, I see Liza, standing up, with another knife.
“Sorry.” She exclaims as she starts walking towards me.