Jill stood trembling just outside the window, the cool night wind brushing against her sweat-soaked skin. Her hands clenched tightly, heart racing, a storm of emotions swirling in her chest—anger, fear, confusion, and deep sorrow. Her breath quivered as she hesitated at the window's ledge. But as she looked again at Klaris' bruised, broken figure, something stronger pushed her forward.
She climbed in slowly, barely making a sound, walking with hesitant steps toward her only friend. Her knees nearly gave in with each step. "Klaris...?" Jill's voice cracked, trembling as she held back the growing sobs. "You... what happened here? Who did this to you...?"
Klaris didn't answer right away. Her breaths were shallow, her eyes barely open, fluttering as if fighting to stay in this world. Finally, a whisper escaped her bloodied lips.
"I'm sorry... you must've waited long for me. I'm sorry, Jill... I'm sorry, I'm sor—"
Her body went limp.
The room fell silent.
Jill stood frozen. Her world collapsed in an instant. A scream rose in her throat but never left her lips. Her eyes darted, desperate for something, anything. That's when she noticed him. In the corner of the room, half-naked, slumped in a chair with an empty bottle at his feet. Snoring, unaware. Her heart stopped.
He was the reason.
Something snapped.
The light that Klaris once sparked in Jill was drowned by a storm of rage. The darkness Jill had buried came rushing back like a tidal wave. She stood up without a word, picked up a nearby bottle of alcohol, and without hesitation—
CRACK!
The bottle shattered on the man's head, sending him to the ground unconscious.
---
The room was dark when he woke up, tied to a chair, blood seeping down his temple, confusion on his face. "What the hell...?" he groaned.
A figure emerged from the shadows, eyes like ice.
"You did this to Klaris," Jill's voice was deathly calm, her silhouette barely lit by a flickering bulb overhead. She held a small notebook in her hand—Klaris' diary.
The man squinted. "Who the hell are you?! Let me go! Before I get really mad!"
Jill smirked, ignoring his threats. "You'll never hurt anyone again. But first... I want you to feel it. The fear she felt. The pain. The helplessness."
She set the diary down carefully, then picked up a rusty tool.
The man laughed nervously. "You're insane!"
"Let's get started," she whispered.
What followed was unspeakable. One by one, Jill tore his fingernails out, his screams echoing into the night. Each cry was met with silence. No one came. No one would. And Jill didn't stop there. The man begged, sobbed, pleaded, but Jill was deaf to him.
Next came the knife.
She peeled back the skin from the most sensitive part of his body, each second drawing out more agony than the last. The man howled, spitting blood and tears, cursing her until he couldn't find words anymore.
Still, she didn't stop.
Broken bones. Deep cuts. Hours passed like nightmares until finally, mercifully, he stopped breathing.
---
The sun was rising.
Jill sat beside Klaris' cold body, silent, unmoving. Her fingers gently flipped through the worn pages of the diary, now smudged with tears and blood. Klaris' words came alive again:
"Mom and Dad died in a car crash last year. I live with my uncle now. He's mean when he drinks. He hits me. Sometimes… worse. But I still try to smile. I still try to hope."
Jill clenched her teeth.
Another page:
"Tomorrow I start at a new school. I hope people there are nice. Maybe I'll finally make a friend."
And then:
"Today I met Jill. She's kind of scary but... I think I like her. She sat next to me in class. She's my first real friend."
More pages showed drawings, funny notes about Jill, stories of laughter, of sitting under a tree, sharing juice, skipping classes. Klaris had drawn pictures of them with little hearts and stars.
Jill's hand shook as she closed the diary, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Everything's fine now," she whispered, brushing Klaris' hair from her pale face. "You can rest... and please take care of yourself there, okay?"
She kissed Klaris' forehead, then held her until the sunlight touched the floor.
---
Present Day
Dean listened in silence, his cigarette long forgotten between his fingers. The tale hit him harder than he expected. He reached out and gently patted Jill's head.
"She must've been happy... The last person she talked to—the one who gave her strength to keep going—that was you."
Jill didn't say anything at first, just stared at the horizon.
Then, with a soft smile and teary eyes, she nodded. "Yeah... she was my light. Even if it was only for a little while."
The sun set slowly behind them, casting a warm orange glow. A quiet, heavy peace settled over the rooftop.