A/N: A string of ficlets inspired by Jennifer Carpenter's statement in EW/Zap2It about how she would like to see Deb die. I don't agree with that, but felt bitten by the writing bug and had to explore. These will obviously lean dark, but there may be some opportunities for levity. Hope you enjoy!
The sun was beating down, bouncing blindingly off of the ice blue waves and forcing all the beachgoers to squint. Dexter had spent all morning chasing his little sister Debra around. Back and forth they ran along the shore. Sometimes venturing into the surf, but usually getting called back by one of the adults. Now it was after lunch, all the grownups asleep.
Deb too was lying back on her blanket, half dozing. Dexter took his opportunity and got quietly off his towel. He walked down the beach, finally making it to the small alcove he had seen from a distance. The sand had been beaten around here. Turning into small dunes and twisting into a private place. At least one big enough for a small child.
Dexter slipped into the quiet space. Pondering the last animal he had taken, and wondering if he could find one to take care of here, he didn't notice his sister in his shadow.
"What are you doing?"
Dexter jumped at the sound of her voice, annoyed and confused. "Go back Deb. You're supposed to be taking a nap."
"But I wanted to see what you were doing." Deb rubbed her eyes sleepily.
"Nothing. Just didn't feel like sleeping. Now go back."
But instead of listening, Deb stepped into the space with him. Their small bodies hidden by the sand heaps. She sat down in the space and made herself comfortable.
"This is nice."
"Yeah, but it's not for you, so just go back ok?"
"Just cause you're older and bigger than me doesn't make you my boss dumbass."
Dexter rolled his eyes, plopping down into the sand. He debated going back, but this quiet spot with Deb annoying him seemed better than the busy beach.
They had been sitting there not more than ten minutes when the waves started to pick up. The water was already very close in this area, but now it was gaining momentum. The wind picking up was causing the waves to crash strongly. Dexter wondered briefly if they should return. But Deb didn't look too bothered, so he left it.
But then there was a wave, much larger than the others. It swept in, hitting Debra's side and grabbing onto her as if it had fingers. Deb yelped and Dexter sat up straight as he watched his little sister being dragged into the water.
"Dex!" Deb was reaching out her hand, her eyes open wide, panic in her face.
And Dexter started to reach for it. But then he stopped. There was a moment when Deb looked at him. It was as if she knew there was no help to be had.
Dexter knew he should still grab onto her. He knew he still could. She wasn't too far yet, and he was a good swimmer. He almost wanted to. But then the water was pulling her further and Deb's head was bobbing under the surface. And instead, Dexter waited. And watched.
It didn't take long. Not as long as he had expected anyways. She didn't have any time to scream for anyone else. She was too small to pull away by herself. And that was it. It was done.
Deb came back to shore. But it wasn't really Deb anymore. Dexter looked down at his feet, staring at her hand lying limp against the sand. Her eyes were closed.
Dexter trembled.
