It’s the middle of November and I’m trudging through three feet of snow because, much to my dismay, bodies don’t just bury themselves. Normally, I wouldn’t do this kind of thing, but James is an exception. I didn’t think it’d be so tedious, thoug. My muscles are burning, my hands are cramping, and if he hadn’t done what he did I’d have said it wasn’t worth it. I let the tarp-wrapped bundle fall from my shoulder, hear it crunch as it sinks into the snow. Uggghhhhh. Massaging my lower back, I straighten and look around. The forest around me is dense with pines reaching up for the dull, cloudless sky. This bitter Montana winter will be the death of me. The blinding sun reflects off the endless expanse of snow, bringing no warmth to my stiff, numb body. I turn back to my burdensome cargo. James has somehow managed to look more pathetic than he did alive. I plop down in the snow, pulling back the edge of the the thick blue material to reveal his face. “Jamie, Jamie, Jamie…,” I sigh, “What are we going to do with you?” His soulless eyes are nothing new but the lack of his repulsively sweet voice is refreshing. “You just couldn’t help yourself could you, disgusting prick.” I stretch out my legs and try to rub the knot out of my quad while I admire the bruised line around his neck. I knew James was the opposite of a good boyfriend the second my sister brought him home, and I told her that, but Lord knows she didn’t listen. “She told me she loved you. Said you guys moved in together. That you were happy. But you were a good actor, weren’t you?” I sigh. My breath clouds in front of me and I have to ask, “Why? Why couldn’t you just leave her or something like a normal guy?” The few birds crazy enough to be here this time of year and the rustling of the trees is the only reply. I’m getting back on my feet, sinking in the snow. My heart hurts. My throat is closing and my eyes well up and I hate him. I hate him for what he did to her. I hate him. I hate him for hurting her. My body is shaking from cold and anger. I have to get rid of him. I couldn’t let him live after what he did, what if he did it to someone else? I had to do it. I had to. I gather the tarp back into my gloved hands and heft James’ weight onto my shoulder. I’m practically dragging him through the deep snow, leaving a trail, but it’s going to snow again tonight anyway, so it won’t matter. As for anyone finding him, well, I doubt he’ll be missed. He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve a funeral or anyone’s tears. My sister derved them, though. She deserved a life. If I can’t give her that, then this is the least I can do. He had them all fooled. The police never would’ve caught him, but I told them. I told them, I told them, and I tried to show them but they couldn’t see it. So I had to make an exception.