Here is the latest installment of my journey into the world of fiction. You can find it all on my adjunct blog. Here is the URL: http://fragmentsoffictionanovel.blogspot.com.
This particular addition was added to the following entry. If you are familiar with the story you can read the addition by itself just below or you can read the whole thread using the link above.
Have questions? Just ask me.
A Pair of Corpses
But I knew that wouldnâ€™t be the case, knew that this time he wouldnâ€™t get up. Part of me wanted that to happen so badly, even knowing that there would be one hell of a beating involved.
To this day I donâ€™t know how long I lay there on top of Georgie, panting, shivering and in shock. My shirt and hands were sticky with blood, Georgieâ€™s blood. I stood up and walked over to the Tree Man. He was still tied to the tree, but he wasnâ€™t moving, dried blood marked his body and when I grabbed his head in my hands it felt cold and limp. I shook him, told him to wake up, demanded that he answer me.
His silence mocked me and I couldnâ€™t deal with it. I was out of my mind, overwhelmed with emotion and I hit him in the mouth. I felt his head snap against my fist and then the tree and I could swear that he groaned. â€œHey, hey asshole, answer me, say something,â€ I screamed, but no words came out of my mouth and so I grabbed him and shook him again. But again his silence mocked me.
â€œGeorgie, you better stop playing,â€ I shouted and then I kicked him over and over, slapped his face and grabbed his throat and began squeezing it until I realized it wasnâ€™t Georgie. Georgie was dead, his body lay a few feet away.
I started to laugh and shake, giant gales of laughter wracked my body. There in the dark I stood the worldâ€™s newest murderer. Life hadnâ€™t been great, but now it was distinctly worse. Georgieâ€™s death was an accident, it was self-defense. He had been trying to kill me, but the Tree Man, how could I explain that.
How could I tell anyone about this. Who would believe me? When they saw him they would look at me and that would be the end of it. I couldnâ€™t imagine any scenario that didnâ€™t end with me in a cage and that wouldnâ€™t do, couldnâ€™t do, it just wouldnâ€™t.
That sick cackle that had been emanating from my mouth returned, bubbled forth from my mouth like the hiss of air escaping a punctured tire and then it turned into sobbing. Beneath the moonlight I lay in the dirt and cried. A soft wind blew through the trees and the rustling of the leaves painted a picture of desolation. What else was there besides me and the two corpses, my world was destroyed.
And then I heard Georgieâ€™s voice. Even in death he taunted me, ridiculed me for being weak. I could see him standing in front of me, grinning at my pain, the contempt he held me in apparent for all to see. Except that he was dead and I was alive and in hell.
But like so many times in the past the self-pity turned to anger and I stood back up, sucked up the anger and stuffed it back into the pit in my soul it came from. I had to go, had to get out of there and off of the mountain. Now all I needed to do was figure out what to do with Georgie and the Tree Man and go home.