What's a Little Secret?

The day is June 13, 2013. It is currently 12:59a.m. Someone among us has committed a sin. A friend everyone thought we could trust has created a monster of himself. Blood covers his hands and face. His jacket is stained with evidence. Others watch in horror for who will be next? If he does not confess to his actions then they must all keep a secret.

The day is June 12, 2013. It is currently 4:30pm. And we are all sitting in Stan's room thinking of what to do for the rest of the weekend. But none of us are coming up with anything.

"Lets ΜΆ " Kyle begins before I cut him off.

"Lame!" I interrupt with. Everything he could ever think of is lame, stupid, annoying. We all know he's just a tag along. Nobody wants that stupid ginger around.

His eyes ignite with rage, "I didn't even finish," he screeches. He surely took after his mother in the anger department.

"And yet I know you were going to say something completely boring for us all to do."

"Guys," Stan makes a wussy attempt at breaking up our spat. "Let's just go out for pizza or something and then decide."

"I'm in," Kenny raises his hand.

I sigh in defeat. Who can turn up a cheap dinner? Even Kenny is smart enough to know cheap food when he hears of it. I'm the first to stand wiping off invisible wrinkles from my shirt. "Alright, let's go."

We all move out of the house and head to Whistlin' Willy's. It is fairly quiet for a summer afternoon. The kids all seem to be busy with other things. Video games, the pond, anything but the shit hole of our childhood. But cheap pizza is cheap pizza. The four of us discuss over our meal of what is happening for the night.

"I think Token is having a thing," Stan suggests.

"Nah, Millie told me he canceled." Kenny says.

So this might be a boring start to the summer after all, I think to myself. If only I wasn't stuck with these guys then maybe, just maybe I would have some fun. But here I am stuck thinking of parties we could go to.

"What if we just go to the pond and invite a few other guys," Kyle finally says.

And it doesn't sound like that bad an idea.

"I'm down for that," Stan smiles at his super gay best friend.

Kenny only nods in affirmation, still consuming the pizza in front of him. And I only let a disgruntled groan escape my mouth before saying okaying the plan.

The day is June 12, 2013. It is currently 9:30p.m. And all of our closest male friends are sitting around a campfire drinking a few beers. It's a pretty chill night but none of us seem to mind. Everyone is joking around and getting buzzed.

The day is June 13, 2013. It is currently 12:15a.m. And the boys we invited were leaving for dinner at Denny's. Stan, Kyle, Kenny, and I stood alone yet again with the slowly dying campfire sitting in front of us.

"Can I crash with one of y'all tonight?" Kenny stretches and yawns acting as if it's already too late to be out.

"Sure," Kyle wobbles as he stands up. He has never been one who could hold his alcohol, no matter how small the percentage.

"Oh, watch out Stan, your butt-buddy might screw around with someone else." I snicker.

Kyle's face flares up, "Shut-up, fatass!"

Stan and Kenny turn to the red head. It's been a few years since he turned to calling me names. And maybe they are a little worried about his current state of mind right now.

"I'm just big-boned, you stupid Jew," I shoot back at him.

He rushes towards me, "I'm tired of your fucking shit, asshole," he screams into my face. His spit flies everywhere and as I swipe it off of my face I'm met with his fist.

"Shut the fuck up," He yells in between punches.

I faintly hear Kenny and Stan try to talk him down. Those pussies are too afraid to even approach Kyle.

Each punch renders me helpless. For such a scrawny kid he has me pinned against the grass. I'm crying in agony, trying my best not to. But each punch leaves a searing pain behind before he makes contact again. All of my thoughts are focused on the searing pain against my skull. I can hear the faint calls of the two helpless boys standing on the sidelines watching. And before long I'm left in a puddle of my own blood. With a final kick that leads to a disgusting cracking sound, Kyle spits on my face.

The day is June 13, 2013. It is currently 12:45a.m. And I am lying in a pile of my own blood. Eyes stare down at me as I am crying from the pain. Everyone seems so far away.

The day is June 13, 2013. It is currently 12:59a.m. What an awful way to die at the hands of such a wimpy ginger. And with my so-called "friends" watching.

The secret which they must keep crosses their minds as Kyle is suddenly hit with the realization of what he has done. He eyes Stan and Kenny for a few seconds before saying, "Help me clean up."

And without hesitation they follow his lead.

Shit I wrote at 2 in the morning in the middle of having an emotional breakdown. It's been in my head all day so I threw it together. Excuse the drunk mess. I must sober up now before bed or else I'll hate past me.

Thank you for reading. Hugs, Kisses, and Peppermint wishes.