Murders and Memories

The lights snapped back on. Everyone in the party was silent as they stared at the dead body. Sep grimaced. He recognized the circus master who had prophesied in the trailer last week. Except the thin sheen of sweat that had covered his face then, was replaced with thick red blood. Behind him, someone gasped.

That gasp threw Sep away from the dead body, and back 11 years ago.

He was in 7th grade, staring at the same boy he always stared at in class, when the boy had turned around and hissed into his ear: “Why’re you staring at me? Huh?,” His warm spittle hitting the side of Sep’s ear, “What, are you gay?”. The last word hit Sep’s chest so hard, forcing out a gasp. He felt like he could hardly breathe. He managed to stammer, out so excuse about only weird people being gay. The kid in front of him faced the front again, a smug smile stretched across his face.

And then the scream pulled him back out of his nightmare, and he was back at the stupid murder party, which he’d really only gone to, to avoid playing basketball with Leek. Because now Sep was feeling the same stupid feeling he’d felt when he was in 7th grade, and he was not going to let that happen.

He stared miserably at the girl who’d screamed.

The boy comforting her, Maxwell, who’d marked his hand with pen when they entered was looking at him.

“It’s okay,” he mouthed.

Sep jumped. He knew.