“Swallow your fear,” I tell myself. I have to act quickly. Sooner or later someone is going to pull down the long dirt road and wonder what I’m doing just standing here alone in the field. What would I say? How would I explain what I’m doing or why I’m out here? They would suspect something in an instant. And if they came over to where I’m standing they could possibly notice the body. I couldn’t let that happen. I have to get out of here as soon as possible. I look around and try to figure out what to do next. Did I cover all my tracks well enough?

Hidden in the grass is the murder weapon. A knife with the gleaming red glow of Sarah’s blood. Is the grass a good enough place to hide it? I don’t expect them to never find it. I just need it hidden long enough to get far, far away from this horrible trap of a town and start my new life. I dare myself to glance over at her body again to make sure I didn’t leave anything behind. I see her blonde hair covering part of her face, her blood-covered hand on her stomach where I stabbed her, and her legs in an awkward position from her fall to the ground.

Guilt begins to creep in and, for a second, I wonder if I really had a choice? Could I have gotten away with it if I hadn’t killed her? No, I had to. She would have exposed me. It had to be done. For a second, I wonder how her family will react. I have to stop thinking this way or I’ll never make it out. It’s not like I planned to kill her, it just happened. She was a bitch anyway. She only made killing her easier when she wouldn’t shut her damn mouth. She dug her own grave (pun intended). Or so I’ll tell myself until I get far away from this mess.

Sarah and I had been friends for twelve years, but the last three made me hate her more and more. Her ego got bigger and her list of friends got smaller. I was just the only one stupid enough to hang around. When she finally crossed the line I snapped.

Just then, I see headlights headed in my direction on the dirt road. I duck down into the tall grass to hide just in time as the truck passes by without seeing me. Or so I thought. I look up over the grass in time to see brake lights, and then reverse lights heading back toward me. I feel the blood rush out of my face as I freeze in a panic before taking off toward the woods at the other end of the field. I hear the man in the truck screaming out at me to come back and asking if I’m okay. He doesn’t know that he’s only yards away from a dead body, yet, but I’m sure it won’t take him long to find out. I keep running.