Runt had managed to gather her things together and swiftly leave the beach, not before watching the morning tide creep in and wash over her friend, her confidant, her first true love. The water swept around him like a silk sheet, before rippling over the clothing that covered his prone form, the fabric darkened and it spread like wild fire, almost like it was bleeding. She couldn't take her eyes off such a cold and pitiful sight. Maybe that was just her; morbid – in the past she could never tear her eyes away from violence. So now she was watching her friend being taken how she had always wanted herself to be, in the blue water – washed away, though it wouldn't be just for half an hour – it would be forever.
The wind swept through her long hair, as she walked to pavement. She knew at some point she couldn't look back, she mustn't. Her body betrayed her again as she turned. Pig still lay there just visible above the shallow water. Tears burned and prickled her eyes. How could she leave him? But you already did. And she wasn't thinking about the beach, but walking out of his life completely, without a fight, straight to boarding school, and without saying goodbye. Almost as if she knew their relationship was unstable, that she had voluntarily gave herself away. But he had found her again, they had celebrated their birthday together, and then said goodbye. Her lip trembled, she had now.
His sultry and yet child like gaze would never burn into her again, those full lips would never curl back and show a set of near perfect teeth. His droning poetic speech would never sing in her ears again, and...his eyes, those celestite eyes – Blue, the colour of love, would she ever be blessed with such beauty again? Probably not, she was a killer.
Runt broke into a run, her bare feet leaving tracks across the sand, she padded up some steps, and down the pavement, the wind biting her face, the salt in the air burning into her eyes.
She whimpered as she thought of what would become of her, the discovery of the body, the witnesses from last night recollecting the events which lead to her and her Pig running out of the club, the boy she liked, Mark, was lying in a pool of his own blood, was he still there? –Of course not, the police were probably buzzing around the area looking for Pig...and her. She whimpered again, someone will find her, they will retrace her steps, they will find him, she will be locked away. That's if they can prove it. She might even have to play the self defence angle, after all everyone at the club saw the attack, then she left the club first in panic followed by a manic Pig, it could easily swing her way.
She rushed back to the boarding school, she was greeted by the headmistress and the police, looking dishevelled and displaying wounds that could vouch for her being attacked.