Looking over the bridge, seeing the dark spots of her blood on the water, I saw her face, floating under the water. My hands shook, but I knew that I needed to stay. Everything had gone in according to my plan, and I was not going to give it all up. I put a scared, grieving expression on my face, and yelled.
"Emma! Help, Someone help me!" My voice, shrill and convincing, pierced the night. People came running, and I prepared my reaction. "Someone come! Quickly, she's injured!"
The townsfolk arrived no less than twenty seconds later, screaming and yelling questions like, "What's wrong?" and "What's happened?"
Now was my time. "S-she fell off the bridge!" I yelled pitifully. Gasps came from the crowd. They believed it. I laughed inside my head at their foolishness. I started wailing. "When she fell, she hit her head on a rock!" I pointed to the bloody rock with my long fingers. My story was going to be that the girl had fallen off the bridge as we were walking. I had pointed out a supposed fish to her, and when she turned to try to find it in the river, she had fallen in, hitting her head on the sharp rock below.
"How did this happen?" demanded a new voice, the voice of the governor.
Damn, I thought, I didn't expect this bumbling idiot to be here!
"Uh," I said lamely, at a loss for words, "We were walking, and I thought I saw a fish, and I was pointing it out to her when s-she," I paused for dramatic effect, "She fell!" I finished off by pulling out a handkerchief and blowing my nose loudly into it.
What had really happened though was that. Other than after she couldn't see the fish, I kicked a part of the wall to the bridge and pushed her.
"It's alright, me boy," whispered the governor, pulling me into a hug. I smiled smugly. Killing Emma had been too easy.
I was sitting on the ground under the spindly tree, waiting for him to come home. Damian was at work, and his shift had ended just a few moments ago. I opened my book, and started to read. My husband-to-be should have been here by now. I set down the book. Finally, the man of my dreams, my love, my life, was to be mine. So much convincing had to be done, and to get my parents to allow this marriage, I thought of my triumph, my parents' agreement to our betrothal, and how my lover and I could not have been luckier. With a deep breath, my throat closed at the bitter taste of smoke. My eyes watered, and I jumped to my feet, and began to race toward town center.
My hand twitched over the doorknob, thinking that now was the opportune moment. I opened the door, and silently as the night outside, slipped out and closed it. My thoughts were clouded by love and excitement. As I ran through the town, I hardly noticed how cold it was, and how fast I was going. My heart raced as I neared the clearing, and when I first stepped into it, my breath speeded to a pant. When I saw his face, my heart melted. But then I noticed the expression on it, one of pure terror. Gunshots echoed in the dark, and a scream escaped my lips.