Death: The only thing that is definite. The one thing we can all count on. Its loyalty is endless, you can always trust death. That’s what I thought to myself as I saw her life slipping away, slowly… minute by minute… second by second.
I probably could have done something, called an ambulance, or screamed for help. But instead I just stood there; watching her die. The car didn’t even stop, so why should I start? What kind of a person am I if I don’t help? Have I actually done anything wrong? Will I be locked up in some cell somewhere? All these thoughts ran through my head as I stood there, watching her expression fade… her moans for help… blood pouring from her mouth, her body broken and torn.
To say the very least I was giggling, if not all out laughing. To think of how many times I had seen this in films, not one of them captured it so well. All the detail was amazing, the blood leaking and insides spilling over onto the road, the skids of the tires, all in perfect position. Of course, this was real. So you’d expect it to look right, but this, this was something else!
For a moment I could almost imagine sitting in a cinema and watching this, but I was here. This was real. The girl was dying. Walking over to her I smiled.
“Is it painful? Death, I mean… Does it hurt?” I could see an expression cross her face; it was one of shock and pain. Her eyes shot open and she spat out a clot before moaning something, quietly to herself and dying.
Stepping back I wasn’t sure what to do, would I run and pretend I wasn’t here? Wail and cry for help? Pretend to fall unconscious and wake up speaking of how terrible it was? All of these were plausible… and only one useful.
I screamed and ran backward at the first sight of a pedestrian, moving further away from the body. I even tripped over the curb and covered my face for good measure. The man ran over, yelling… something I couldn’t work out until he was closer.
“What happened? How did… what…”
“A-a car! It just kept going, it was terrible! Call someone! Fast!” I wailed, almost forcing him to call an ambulance.
“Y-yes!” He grabbed a hold of his phone and pulled it out of his jacket pocket.
“Hurry! I think she’s dead!” I yelled as he dialled the buttons as fast as his podgy, round fingers could.
“I-I need an ambulance! A-and the police! Please, hurry!” He screamed down the phone like a pig squealing for food.
“Oh… oh my god!” I screamed and began to cry, turning over on the floor.
“Ye-yes! Just outside twelve Baker Street… Y-yes, she’s been crushed by some sort of car… I don’t know, I’m here with a man who says he saw it, h-he might know… Y-yes, I’ll put him on!” He snorted and shoved the phone toward me.

* * * * *

It was easy. The tears kept the more... sensitive... questions out of bounds for the officers. They knew what had happened. Just a normal, run of the mill roadside casualty. They were unconscious to the blanket of tearful lies I had woven.
The pig-like features of the man – who, I had found out, was named Barry – were creased. His swollen eyes leaked tears solidly as the police had questioned him. He had no stamina at all. At one point I thought he was about to acknowledge himself as the driver, however the police seemed to recognise that he was on the edge and gave him a break.
The girl’s parents arrived just as the cordon barrier was being set up. The moment I had been waiting for. The taste of their panic hit the air as soon the car door swung open. My nostrils flared and I licked my lips in anticipation, to see that brilliant, unaltered, moment of realisation.
A single tear fell as the woman awoke to the truth. Her jaw dropped slightly. She stumbled toward to cordon before dropping to her knees and weeping into her hands.
“Oh, Jenny,” I looked toward the man who had stepped out of the car after the woman, “our wonderful Jenny... What have you done to yourself?” He put a reassuring hand on his wife’s left shoulder. I sniggered accidentally at the trivial gesture.
“Miles we... Oh Miles!” She fell to the floor. My taste buds flickered at the thought of their despair and I stopped for a moment. I thought about what I had become over the past few months. How my behaviour was slowly but surely changing. I had never enjoyed peoples suffering so heavily before, almost as if... Something was influencing me.


... And that's it so far. Comments, suggestions?