The high afternoon sun sparkles on the water. The wind is barely a whisper, leaving the trees silent. Today is a peaceful day, something I have desperately been hoping for. I stand by my pool, gazing into the water. It has always comforted me. Since that poor girl's death, I need it now more than ever.
All day long Nick has been calling, but i have not been answering. I already know what he wants. The fool keeps insisting that I leave town. He doesn't understand that I cannot. I already left my beautiful Daisy with her brute of a husband once, and I refuse to make that same mistake again. Tonight, I will fix everything and make it as it should have been years ago. I reach down and untie my robe, letting it fall to the ground. As I begin to lower myself into the pool, a twig snaps behind me. I quickly climb back out.
"I thought I said no interruptions," I say angrily. "You-" I pause as I stare at the man before me.
He is ghost-like, with pale hair and skin. Every bit of him seems to be covered in gray dust, but his eyes are piercing and crazed. On his shirt lie crimson splotches which can only be blood. He walks towards me slowly, looking as though he could fall over at any minute.
"Did you enjoy it?", he says bitterly, "running her down with the car?" Tears are running down his face. "You didn't even stop," he gasps, shaking his head. "You just left her bloody body for me to find".
I realize he is talking about the woman Daisy hit. "I-"
"Shut up!", he screams, a manic look on his face. "You ruined everything!" He glances behind me, and his eyes light up. "God sees everything," he chokes out, still not looking at me. With new resolve, he takes a step forward.
"I'm a good person," he whispers, his voice strangely calm. "God knows I'm good". He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a small pistol. He aims it at my heart, his eyes crazed. "You made me do this".
The click of the trigger is deafening. The force shoves me into the freezing water. Pain ignites in my chest, not from the scorching bullet, but from regret. The speech I had carefully prepared means nothing now. As my vision dims, I think of the small box on my dresser, and the green orb inside that will never grace her fingers.