Twisted Season

• Holly Nester, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2022

When I came to, I didn’t open my eyes, but I could tell I was in a car by the movement I could feel around me. I felt the car stop, and heard someone getting out. My door opened and I felt arms around me, lifting me out of the car, and dumping me on what felt like sand.
“Your eyelids are flickering, I can tell you’re awake.” It was the same croaky voice. Brent Jarvis. I opened my eyes to see him standing over me, holding a shovel.
“It was you!” I cried. “You committed those murders!” He smirked, and nodded his head.
“And you’re about to join them in the grave”, he laughed.
“Why?” I asked. “Why did you kill those women?” Brent sighed, and thought about it.
“I’m about to kill you, so I may as well tell you. It’s simple; I loved those women, and so I asked them to go on a date, and they declined. Oh, I don’t know why they made that choice…”
“Because you’re insane!” I screamed at him. “Wait…Where are their bodies?” I asked. Brent chuckled to himself.
“I technically didn’t kill them” he started. “The lack of air after being buried alive did.” I stood up with wobbly legs, and slapped him in the face. It didn’t affect him in the slightest. He smiled at me, and pushed me in the chest, forcing me to fall back down. He turned his back to me, and started to dig my grave. I quietly stood up, and looked in the car, as the passenger door was still open. And then I saw it…A gun. I slowly picked it up, and crept up behind Brent. I breathed deeply, and pulled the trigger. Brent collapsed into his own grave, dead. I ran back to the car, and turned the key…It didn’t start. I looked around me, at where I was. The middle of nowhere. Great.