Echoes

48 Hours left - Evening

"Looks like you've gotten quite a bit written down." The grim reaper observes. "Do you have the answers you wanted?"

I lean away from the journal I've been furiously writing in since I arrived at home and cross my arms. "I've managed to connect every victim thus far to attendees at the camp, least the ones directly involved in the event." I run my hand through my hair. "I haven't been able to name a direct suspect, but it must be someone involved. Someone that has something to gain by eliminating everyone that was there, what that is still eludes me for now."

"Perhaps what there is to gain is not something tangible?" the reaper muses.

I shrug, not looking up at him. "That is possible, but as far as I can remember there isn't anyone who would want to bring up what happened, much less to gain from it. I can't imagine anyone of us would willingly trying to bring it up again, especially after so long."

"Bring what up?" I hear Matts voice and my heart drops. I look up sharply and find Matt standing where the reaper was only a second before. He scowls. "What's that look for? Did I startle you?"

I shake my head. "I just didn't hear you come in, that's all."

He laughs. "Basically, you were just talking to yourself." I shrug and nod. "What were you talking about anyways? Bring what up?"

I look at him, doubtful. "You didn't look at the files?" I ask. His eyes flicker around the room and he shifts his stance, I smirk, he read them alright. "Just spit it out, ask the question that is on your mind."

He swallows hard before looking at me again. "What actually happened, were you really involved in that?" he moves around the table and sits next to me. "I read the files, but it just seems outrageous. I wanted to hear it from you before coming to a judgment."

I give him a small smile. "Theres not really much more I can tell you if you read the entire file."

He shakes his head and stares at me, desperation in his gaze. "I want to hear what happened from you. I can't believe that you were in something like that."

The desperate look in his eyes made me feel worse than ever before, and I shifted uncomfortably. I was scared to tell him, scared to disappoint him. Like I would fail to stand up to his grand perception of who I was as a person. I look down at my hands, picking at my nails, trying to delay the inevitable. My eyes flicker to the lines on my wrist and a wave of emptiness washes over me. At this point I truly had nothing to lose, I was already dead. I look up at him and begin. "It was some years ago, at the reform camp. The place was horrible, and no one really cared to take care of us, provide boundaries, nothing. It was basically a battlefield, the camp advisors only doled out punishment and would turn their gaze whenever someone got attacked. Therefore, people woke up to merely survive until they made it through their proverbial sentencing." I stop and laugh. "But as you saw, one day it went too far."

Thirteen years ago.

The day started out strangely quiet, like the air was holding its breath, waiting for something. It made me hyper aware as I went about the daily chores, doing my best to avoid everyone else at all costs. I had nearly gone the entire day without running into the older girls that I decided to take a small walk through the neighboring field. I was approaching the back corner when I heard it, and my heart stopped. A group of girls were laughing as one cried and begged them to stop. My steps slowed as I cautiously approached the group, I didn't have to see their faces to know who it was. Six of the older girls had created what could only be considered a pack of hyenas parading around as humans. They were the ones I spent my time trying to avoid, and the one that led them all was the girl who unnerved me the most, Alexandra. There was a darkness in that girl, and she took pleasure in bringing out the worst in her followers. I couldn't see who their victim was, but she was cowering in the middle, curled up on the ground trying to protect herself from their assault. I could see her nose was bleeding and she was covered in cuts and bruises, but I couldn't bring myself to move to her aid. My gut told me to turn around and walk away unless I want that anger turned on me. I told myself that it would be better if less attention was brought to them and that I needed to prioritize my own safety as I marched back to the bunkhouses.