The branches stick out of the tree like knives, if you press your finger against the end it would surely make you bleed. The roots penetrate the ground with no struggle, clinging to the dirt that will give it the nurturance it needs to survive. The bark on the tree is chipped away, it looks resembles smooth skin. I pull my blood drenched t-shirt up over my head and wipe a clean corner of it on my face. The early spring air is still cold and make my hairless chest long for warmth. The tree is alone in the cold spring air, had not yet grown its leafy coat. I should feel guilty for what I had just done, but I don’t. I just crave more. I long for the warmth of the dark red liquid to run off my hands.
I push the car door open; everything was silent except for my raspy breath. I turn the key to open the trunk. The blood on her skin still dripping, the cuts on her arms leak. I slide my arms underneath her body to get a good grip, she is heavier now then she was before. I drop her down on the ground, I hear a crack which must be her skull breaking on a rock. My heart bounds as I plunge the shovel into the ground, the ground is still hard to dig. I lift her up and put her back against the tree, set her hands together on her lap. I run back to my car; my chest has goose bumps all over it. I start my car and drive away, my hands grip onto the stirring wheel and I can feel the girl's blood beginning to dry and crack on my hands.
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