I held her body close. I needed to feel her warmth one more time.
We had been best friends growing up. Field trips, notes in class, sleepovers, boyfriends, heartache, learning to drive, lying for each other…we had been inseparable.
I looked at her face.
When she came in to tell me she wasn’t going to NYU, hadn’t even applied, I was hurt. Why hadn’t she told me? I could have applied to Berkeley, too. Unless she didn’t want us to attend together. I had so many questions she wouldn’t answer.
Now for the hard part. What next?
Her arms, her legs, her head, all laid on the floor in a pile. I released her torso, let it fall heavy beside the rest of her parts.
Am I going to burn, dump, or bury all this?
Copyright WB Welch – All Rights Reserved
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.