What are We?

in Featured/Stories/Stories and Poems

I wasn’t comfortable here, I should have just said “no!” The house was abandoned, and from what Kelly confessed to me while driving here, made me angry. How could she and Marco’s go behind my back she knew we just broke up? I sighed. My heart raced as we got out of the car to the sounds of the beating bongos; Marco’s is here. I stood in the corner of the flashing lights watching his proud face and grinned even though I hated him for what he did to me.

“Anya” the familiar voice called my name; I stumbled over a few people sitting on the floor playing spin the bottle.

“Idiots” I grumbled, making my way to the kitchen where Kelly stood with the new guy James I think? That’s all I can remember.

It was silent in the room as I glanced around at the bloody scene. The top of bongos were splashed with blood, and Marco’s hands no longer attached to his body were settled on top. I cringed and turned to throw up.

“Can you tell us anything else Anya? Did you see anyone?” the officer continued to question me. I shook my head irritated and dizzy. I heard my dad’s concerned voice from outside.

“Well; is she alright?” there were multiple low husky voices, Then suddenly my father pushed his way through covering his nose at the scene; his eyes flashed in my direction frightened, then suddenly he grabbed me up steering me to the door.

“I’ll need to continue asking her questions Larry, somethings not adding up,” the officer said as we passed him. My father who is the Sheriff; gave him one stiff nod.

He was quiet on the ride home, and I knew that he knew I did it, turning in my seat I squinted ‘what are we?”

His face paled as he turned to me slowly shaking his head “not we, sweetheart … you!”

Lives in the NW, Graduated college with an AA in social sciences, enjoys reading and writing short stories of many sorts. My me time consists of completing a book I'm currently working on. Favorite authors are Steven King, Mary Shelley, Edgar Allen Poe And Anne Rice.

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