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Flo Sharples

I did not mean to kill him. It was an accident. It all happened so fast. In a blink of an eye, he was dead. The guilt grew inside me like a vine on a fence. My shaking pale mud-covered knees dropped to the soggy path as the tears trickled down my ice-cold face. I knew there was no saving him – he was gone. FOREVER.
It was quite the sorrow that I had just taken a life that will never be lived; stayed in me like letters engraved in a rock, but instead of the rock – my heart. It felt like the only thing I could hear was my own heartbeat. The wind took me away with its powerful strikes, but nothing could move me. My knees knocked, tears fell, I towered over the body that lay motionless below me. The trees arched over me. I picked up my unstable-self and covered the face of the body with leaves. I could not bear to look at him without wanting to end mine.
I picked the shovel off the mud-caked path and started to dig; the soil was hard, and my arms were tired, but the guilt stayed and will never leave. The only thing that was left to do was roll the figure into the ready-made hole. The murder weapon lay in front of me with blood stains splatted up the front. My eyes were dry and sore as I wiped the tears away with the back of my sleeve.
Lastly, I needed to find a stone and carve the letters in. But every time I tried, I found I could not. My hands were shaking and blistery, the blood dribbled down my arm but I could not feel the pain. I was immune. I deserved all the pain I was going through. I was the one who ruined his life, but he will never be able to ruin mine. I was hurting inside. My heart was shattered into millions of pieces. The dark shadow of the trees left me in darkness like a cape blocking out everything. It closed me in; there was no escape. I could not run from what I had done. It was a scar that was here for as long as my life.
The dark stone statue of a lady stood only a few metres away; her hair looked like it was tied back in a tight bun. She looked round and plump with a beaming smile on her face. She was wearing a neat dress with pink and yellow flowers but when words left her mouth, she sighed…
“You’re a silly goose! Who buries bugs? You just stepped on it – it’s not the end of the world!”