Chapter 17: Relation

Tyler meets someone.

Tyler.

                                     

Things really began to spiral out of control

 

once my mum noticed.
My grades were slipping 
and it was already November.

My senior year was blowing by

far too quickly for me to
handle. College pamphlets
scattered the table and taunted me.

Yale, Harvard, Princeton.

All chosen by
my lovely mother. I
understood that

she only wanted the best for me,

 
but I had begun to believe
that the best place for me
was six feet under, right

where I had put poor Jonathon.

The search had
been carrying on for a few
weeks now and I wondered

if they’d ever move the garbage dumpsters

 and when they did, would
they get prints? A strand of
DNA lingering in the remains?

The possibilities poked

 prodded at my brain until I couldn’t
think without seeing myself with the
 silver handcuffs tightly on my wrists

and that’s when I decided,

we had to move the body.

 

 



 

I hadn’t bothered with talking to anyone

 

else besides Jacob, Emily and Jeremy.
                      I knew they knew what had happened that
    night but were too panicked to point
            any fingers. So we all pretended that it didn’t happen.


I rarely hung out with the others from that
                     night anyways, didn’t really hang out with anyone
           for that matter. But if I did, we kept our
                          accusations and questions to ourselves. We decided to


move the body on October 19th, 2010.
                    Exactly a month after the killing. The date had
       imprinted itself into my brain. I’d never
                          forget it. You’d think that the date of the accident would

be one million times more potent. But
                     that night was almost irrelevant compared
        to the horror my eyes had seen this
                             night. The fear, the pain, it was as if I had taken a step into

 

a different world and seen a glimpse behind the gates of hell.

 

 

 

To see death the first time,

 

was merely pure shock.
But to view it again…

(bad memories held back with a lock).

 

Questions were asked.
I felt like the air was stolen.
Words exchanged,

but I stood silent, tongue swollen.

 

All the air escaped at once (a scream),
heard within ear shot.
Causing hands over ears,

as I stared down at the corpse, starting to rot.

 

As though it weren’t monstrous enough,
to stash the body once.
But to go back and disturb the dead again.

These Satan influenced stunts.

 

We knew we had to make it quick,
(faster now, blamed on my scream).
We tossed him into the forest,

the bag drowned in green.

 

Deep in the dark,
we threw branches, dirt and leaves.
Left with filthy hands,

and red stained sleeves.

 

I tripped, fell and hit my head,
everything faded to black.
"How could you?" the ghost whispered.

"I’m sorry," I said back.

 

I woke up in a stranger’s room,
my head still spinning,
and memories from my recent encounter,

I heard, "This is just the beginning."

 

 

 

There was an icepack on my forehead,

 

memories flooded my head as I sat
up too quickly, falling back to the
comfort of an alien couch. Did they

 

see the body? I had walked a fair
distance before I had tripped, but
what if they did a little investigating?

 

No one goes into that forest, especially
at night, if they know what’s good for
them. But we were teenagers, young and

 

naïve, they would probably understand,
right? I had realized then that my eyes
were squeezed shut, creating a crows

 

feet crease, tight at the corners of my
eyes. I heard a feminine giggle. My
eyes flew open to a pulchritudinous

 

figure. She stood confident and flawless.
Fiery red hair framed her chalk pale skin,
curling in at the ends and flowing over her

 

shoulders. Blue sparkling eyes stared
forcefully into mine, shining with a gleam
of kindness. A gray knit sweater hugged

 

her slim figure matched with light wash,
ripped blue jeans. I evaluated her several
times before her smiling eyes turned to

 

concern. "Are you alright?" A thick
British accent flowed from her tongue
as she spoke, eyebrows furrowing

 

together. I nodded and sat up slowly,
she rushed to my side, a hand at my

back. I smiled at the angel. "Thanks,"

 

I spoke slowly, "I was playing a stupid
game with some friends and I must’ve
tripped." She nodded thoughtfully, taking

 

the icepack from my lap and traveling
into what I believed to be the kitchen.
It was a wide doorway and I watched as

 

she stashed it away in the large freezer.
"My brother helped me bring you in, we
were hunting and he almost stepped on

 

you." I was very fascinated by her accent,
by her in general. "I was with friends-"
"I know," she interrupted, walking back

 

over to the couch. "She and two
others were walking back to find you
but I told her you were in good hands.

 

She seemed to be in a hurry anyways."
I nodded, the town was so small I was
surprised I’d never even seen her before,

 

but even still, kindness wasn’t a weird thing
to stumble upon. "Tyler, right?"  Her faint skin
blushed a rosy crimson. "I suppose I shouldn’t

 

pretend that I don’t know your name. Who
doesn’t? You’re the star quarterback-"
"Was," I cut her off, "I don’t play anymore."

 

She nodded, "I’ve noticed. Well, I’m Ashley
Miller and I was about to watch this film,
would you like to join me?" In hindsight

 

I really should’ve connected the dots
then, maybe I thought it was just a
coincidence, avoiding the inevitable

 

truth.