The interest I have in this story stems from the use of the collective viewpoint; there is no “I” to the story, as one usually assumes is the case in first person-fiction, instead being replaced by a “we.” In the beginning paragraph, I almost thought the story had been selected as a mistake and that Silvia would serve as our main character. Instead, we are told what happened in almost a confessional by a group of attention-seeking (no judgments) teenage girls. Particularly striking, though, is how this collective front of “we” was so quick to set Natalia apart from the rest of them. Her acceptance as part of the group describing the events is conditional upon her behavior: When they all hate Silvia, she’s in. When they’re obsessed with Diego, she’s in. When she puts menstrual blood in Diego’s coffee, she’s out. She has her moments of belonging to the group after this, but that moment serves as the real split of her becoming a defined character. After everything, though, and perhaps this is the real horror of the story, she gets back in. After the girls run out of the quarry, Natalia leading them, they’re once again just “we.” “We” ignored the screaming. “We” got on the bus back into town. “We” told the driver everything was okay.