Killing The Innocent

• Shannen Webster-conolly, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2014

Blood was smeared across my face as the knife plunged deep into her chest for about the twentieth time. You could tell she was dead by just looking at her face. Her lifeless body was all that remained of her existence. Getting rid of the evidence was the only thing left until I could get on with my life. I wouldn't have that guilty conscience gnawing at the back of my mind for killing someone I loved. I laughed at my own joke. I didn't love her, just said I did. Everyone believed me. A job well done I guess.

I stared into her eyes. She looked right through me, like I wasn't even there. That was no surprise. I wiped a tear that was stained on her face from when we were fighting, right before I viciously stabbed her the first time.

Kissing her lips for the last time, I put her body into a sack. It felt just like a horror movie. Maybe it was, for her. But she didn't audition for this role. No, it got given to her. Laughing at my own dry humour again, I began to drag her body away from our murder scene. My back was straining as I pulled her along the side of the road for about two kilometers. It was hell.

Soon enough, I saw the clearing I was looking for. It was surrounded by shrubs and trees. Not many people in this town knew about this path to get to the top of the cliff, except for me and her. I was grunting in pain from the weight of her body. She was so heavy for such a tiny and lifeless figure.

Stepping out into the clearing, the moonlight shone on my back. It was such a beautiful night. It was a beautiful crime committed on a beautiful night. What a coincidence.

I pushed the sack to the edge of the cliff. Saying goodbye would be easy; she didn't mean much to me or to anyone. “Oh Amelia, you would've loved to see how beautiful the sky is tonight. Such a pity you can’t.” I whispered to her inside the sack as I pushed her body over the edge and walked away.

I sculled the last of the red wine. The house was empty and silent which was different. Walking down the hallway our pictures together still were hanging on the wall. I stared at the one where we first met. We looked so happy and I looked so innocent. I burst into uncontrollable laughter. I wasn't the innocent one, she was.