Injustice

At the end of every school day, our principal, Mrs. Strict-face, would have a dress-code inspection session with the entire school. Immediately after the bell rang for our last class of the day, we would all rush for the school's gym hall.

They say that our school's gym hall is the biggest gym hall in the whole Gauteng province, considering the fact that it was capable of fitting over a thousand girls in it. The gym hall was dusty and ancient, and was still partly damaged from the murderous events which took place 10 years ago. There were humongous cracks on the ceiling, which made funny shapes that looked like continents,and there were also the bullet-sized holes on the gym halls. It had been 10 years, yet no one, not a single woman, thought that it would be a great idea to maybe consider fixing the damage caused to the gym hall. But no, why not just leave everything as it is as a reminder of how evil were to men back then?

"Alright, couch potatoes! Line up!" Mrs. Strict-face yelled at us

All the girls moved to the center of the gym hall and formed a long straight line, starting from the eighth graders and ending by the twelfth graders. We did this everyday, and it annoyed the hell out of me. I found this inspection session as an excuse for the principal to show how strict and scary she was, and surprisingly, she was doing a pretty good job at that.

The principal would always start checking the eighth graders when she commenced the inspection session. She would walk past each and every one of us and check if our dress code was correct. As she did, she held a wooden stick which she seemed to have gotten from a broken broom. I guessed witches could be teachers too, right?

"Hold out your hands!" Mrs. Strict-face yelled, "I'm checking nails today, so hold your hands out!"

We all held out our hands in front of us, as if waiting to get a manicure. I hated how we always had to have our nails checked. The principal didn't even bother warning us of when she might be checking our nails. I was lucky, at least, for I did cut my nails in advance. Well, I actually bit them nervously during geometry class, but it still counts though.

Today, as we stood in the line with our hands held out, we saw Mrs. Strict-face move to the end of the line by the twelfth graders, which took most of us by surprise. She always started with the eighth graders. Why start by my grade all of a sudden.

"Why is she starting with us?" I whispered to Amara, who stood next to me

"I don't know," she said, shrugging, "Are your nails cut?"

"Bitten, actually." I showed her my nails in embarrassment

"I also bit my nails during History class." She showed me her nails, and we both gave each other cheeky smiles.

I slightly bent forward to see how far the principal was. She was getting closer to me. After passing one girl, she stopped by the next girl, who had her hands behind her back and her head tilted downwards.

"Didi," Mrs. Strict-face called the girl's name, "Show me your nails."

Didi was in most of my classes, and I had known her as one of the shyest girls in the school. She only spoke when spoken too, and was one of the top academic achievers in the school. She was also very obedient when it came to her dress code. Her hairs was always neat, her clothes were properly irons, and her nails were always cut (not bitten). I wondered what the matter was that made Didi not to show her nails that day.

"Didi, show me your nails." The principal repeated, her voice sounding very impatient

All the girls' heads turned to Didi's direction. We all knew what was coming, but we just couldn't help but watch. I felt for Didi that day. I could feel the chills that caused the goosebumps on her skin. I could feel her guilt as she stared at the ground with teary eyes. I could feel it. That moment, I felt for Didi.

"Didi, show me your nails or else!" The principal yelled, the echoes of her voice across the hall scaring the hell out of everyone.

With shaking hands, Didi removed her hands from behind her back and held them in front of her. That was when everyone gasped in shock. Didi was definitely done for.

"You painted your nails red?" The principal exclaimed, her face turning redder than the red on Didi's nails

"Ma'am, you must understand. I-I don't know how this happened." Didi explained, "I was taking a nap in class, and when I woke up, I found my nails painted. Someone pranked me!"

"Oh please! Whoever did this to you should have poured that nail polish over your eyes, so that you never open them again. How dare you sleep during class time?"

"Ma'am, I--"

Before Didi could finish her sentence, Mrs. Strict-face slapped Didi hard on the face, earning another gasp from all of us.

"Shut up! All of you," she shouted at the rest of us in line, "And stand in a straight line. What are you? Stray chickens?"

"And you," Mrs. Strict-face turned back to Didi, "Go to my office and wait for me there. Your behaviour is unacceptable."

"Yes ma'am," Didi walked out of the gym hall, keeping her head down

"I'm ending this inspection session short," Mrs. Strict-face said, "But only because that rat of a girl pissed me off. So consider yourselves lucky today. Now get out of my face. You all make me sick!"

With that said, we all hurried out of the gym hall. Some girls even ran. That was how scared we were of the principal. As I rushed out of the hall, I noticed a group of girls giggling mischievously about Didi. One of those girls being Seraphine.

I knew it. I just knew that Seraphine had something to do with Didi getting into trouble. She must have been the one who pranked Didi by painting her nails. I couldn't believe she would do that. I mean- regards of the fact that she had no heart, should have at least been more considerate. Seraphine knee how strict and cruel the principal was. We all did. Why still choose to be a minx?

"Seraphine!" I found myself calling her name, " Hey! Seraphine!"

The moment she turned around was the moment I regretted calling her name.

"Thando, leave her." Amara said, pulling me by the arm

"I can't just stand around and watch her win. I've had it with her." Just as I was about to walk over to Seraphine, Amara pulled me again so that I was standing in front of her. Both her hands were resting on my shoulders.

"Thando, I get it. I want justice for Didi too. But it isn't worth it right now. Violence isn't worth it. Remember what happened the last time?" She pointed to my chest, referring to my stab wound, "I don't want you getting hurt again, Thando. I don't want you to get hurt, know that I had a chance to stop you. Just please, don't hurt Seraphine."

I thought about what Amara said. I thought long and hard. And as I did, I stared into her pleading eyes, which glistened with tiny sparkles. I didn't want Seraphine to win, but I didn't want to disappoint Amara either. I almost died once, trying to bring justice to one of the abused girls. It caused Amara to almost lose her mind. I had never had a friend who cared that much for me. I couldn't let her down.

"Fine..." I sighed in defeat, "I won't do anything stupid, but just this once."

"Good, because I've got my eye on you," She said, " Now let's hurry. We still have to sing for Anati, remember?"

"Oh yeah. Let's hurry before she walks home."

Amara and I speed-walked to Anati's locker. When we got there, Juliet nor Anati were waiting there.

"There's Juliet, but the school gate." Amara said

She grabbed my hand and pulled me with her through the crowd of girls. When we reached Juliet, Amara called out to her, gaining her attention.

"Juliet, where's Anati?"

"She just left...in a car!" Juliet exclaimed, Amara and I gasping in unison

"Since when does she go home by car? She never goes home by car. She hates how eco-unfriendly they are." Amara said

"I know!" Juliet said," I tried catching up to her and grabbing her attention, but she just ignored me. She's probably still mad at me."

Juliet looked like she was about to cry. Juliet was a hard nut to crack. It took a lot for someone to make her cry. But she had a soft side for Anati, so it took just the smallest thing for Anati to make Juliet burst into tears.

"Don't lose hope just yet, Juliet. Her home isn't from here, so we'll go to her by foot." I said.

She nodded, smiling a little.

"Um, guys," Amara said, "I know I said I would help, but I didn't agree to leave school premises. I have basketball practice in less than 10 minutes."

"Don't worry, we've got it from here." I assured her

"Wish her happy birthday for me?"

"Of course. See you tomorrow."

Amara went back into the school, while Juliet and I made our way down the street, on our way to Anati's place.