One Lazy Sunday

The late Sunday afternoon sun was bright and warm. Her blue eyes looked glassy and staring, honey-coloured hair full of sunshine. She was turned slightly towards him, her right hip rising up out of the grass and feet stretched out towards the brook. The boy sat beside her facing it, knees bent, arms resting across them. A cigarette hung between his fingers.

Hanging and sloping were good words to describe him: his shoulders, hair, the laces on his sneakers. He took another drag on the cigarette.

The brook gurgled by, uncaring.

Blowing another stream of smoke between his lips, he twisted to look at the girl again. Glanced at the marks his own hands had left around her throat, heartbeat remaining steady. He spent a moment examining the thoughts in his head, and the feelings in his belly. He thought he'd feel it more than this. There was... nothing much.

The main thing he felt was worry about the body being found by the police, and people like that... and what would happen to him when it was. He had a brooding expression, tending to a scowl, but he often looked like that anyway.

He shrugged himself to his feet and walked to his friend's house. Knocked.

"You coming out?" he asked.

The friend wrinkled his face. He didn't want to come out. He'd got a new computer game and only just started playing it.

"Got something to show you."

The friend, a fellow sloper, trod into his sneakers, yelling, "Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaam! Going out!"

They didn't hear the distant reply over the sound of the vaccuum cleaner, and the door banging.

When they arrived back at the spot by the brook, the friend stared down at the girl, his face showing no emotion.

"You do her?" he said.

"Mhm."

On Monday, none of the group believed him. After school, he led them to the spot, and waited for their reaction. One looked a bit sick. His friend's girlfriend goggled.

"Can't leave her here, though," the boy said. Worry, once again, tugged at him. "Someone'll find her."

"Push her into the river," someone said.

On Tuesday, police arrived at the school and led the boy away in handcuffs.

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + Word count, excluding note: 366 Submitted on Monday 17th June at 23.20

*Quick Author's Note* First, and most importantly: thank you so much for reading my story! The ha'penny that Vocal will toss in my hat for your eyeballs landing on this humble piece will be well-spent.

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A Year of Stories: I'm writing a story every day this year. This one continues my 169 day streak since 1st January.

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Rachel Deeming

Gerard DiLeo

The story behind the story: This was inspired by a true story that happened in the 1980s. I've done a similar one here 👇 but in that one I keep the main details and names the same. This time I chose to leave names out and changed certain things.

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Thank you! Thank you again, most sincerely. Especially if you are one of the wonderful people who has been staunchly reading these daily scribbles since the start of the year. I see you, and appreciate you very much indeed! 😁 + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +