A Certain Smell

• Alexander Hawking, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2018

"What did one wall say to the other?"
I rolled my eyes. "What?"
"Meet you at the corner!"
From behind me came a very long, drawn-out groan.
"Seriously mate, I think I just died a little inside,"
"Yeah, Jack at least find a decent joke next time!"
Jack laughed "I have found a decent joke and I'm looking right at him."
Josh frowned, "Hey, I can't help it if my parents have a bad sense of humor!"
Jack, Josh and I all burst out laughing. We laughed so loudly that the librarian had to come over and tell us off.
"Don't you boys have work to do?"
She was right about that, not that any of us had the slightest intention of doing said work. Instead, we sat there, trying not to laugh as Jack let rip a stream of the worst jokes ever heard. Eventually, the bell rang. We walked back to our lockers together and then walked to the bus circle together. It was there that we said our goodbyes and I put on my headphones and got on the bus. It was about then that things would take a turn for the worse.
I walked along the middle of the aisles of the crusty old chairs, heading to my usual spot at the back of the bus. The first thing I noticed was the smell. It was a strange smell. It smelt like the time Josh wasn’t looking and a basketball hit him in the nose. It also smelt like the time I was walking along the side of the road and had found a kangaroo that had been hit by a car. It smelt like death. And then I found the source of the smell.
If you are one those kids who are obsessed with those horror TV shows that are all overnight time television then you probably think you know what a corpse looks like. Well, you're wrong. It looks nothing like that. The skin is more yellow, the eyes are not shut

and the smell is nothing like you could ever imagine. I threw up all over the back seats of the bus. Eventually, I came to my senses.
I had to do something. Call the police, that’s what. I picked up my phone, quickly dialed 000 and listened to it ring.

"I know a man who builds boats In his attic,"
said Jack, starting off on another string of terrible jokes,
"Sails are through the roof!"
From behind came the familiar chorus of groans and comments but for some reason, I wasn't one of them.
I haven't been the same since I found the body. Something has changed within me. I don't listen to the same music or laugh at the
same jokes. The therapist had told me that I would back to normal within a week.
"Hey man, you alright?" asked Josh, bumping into me.
"Yeah," I said.
The bell rang and as I walked out between the shelves and shelves of books in the library I put my headphones in my ears and got on the bus.
Then I smelt a familiar smell.