September 14th, 1992
The crisp, Fall air felt good on their hot faces as they bent over, gasping for air. The taller one looked over his shoulder, a relieved smile spreading over his face.
"I think we lost them, Spencer." He gasped. Spencer nodded and pushed his glasses into place.
"Good." He replied. The taller one wiped his sweaty forehead and stood upright.
"Lose anything?" He asked. Spencer shook his head.
"Nothing. Except my nerve." He replied. The taller nodded and clapped a hand to Spencer's shoulder.
"You'll get it back." He remarked before continuing to walk down the road. Spencer hurried after him.
"Hey, David, what's so important about getting your nerve back when the nerve we're talking about is only a figurative nerve? Statistically, it's more important to get an actual nerve back than a figurative one. So, why are you saying it's more important to get a figurative nerve back than a real nerve?" He asked. David almost smiled.
"The figurative nerve is also referred to as bravery." He replied. "And it's kind of nice if you get that back every time you lose it." Spencer nodded.
"You know, I'm really glad it's Friday." Spencer commented after a few moments of walking on the leaf-strewn road. "We don't have to lose the jocks until Monday."
Spencer Reid raced through the leaves, tripping over tree roots as he did so. This never would have had happened if David wasn't sick. He suddenly tripped over a hidden tree root and fell. The wind was knocked out of him and a rather bad stench reached his nostrils. Gasping for air, Spencer got to his feet and followed the smell to its source. He didn't get very far before he saw a person lying face down on the ground. The boy approached the person and rolled him over. His loud, piercing scream rang throughout the area. The person's face was cut off. Spencer felt sick to his stomach as he shrugged off his jacket and covered the person's head with it. It was ten minutes before the authorities arrived. It was ten minutes before Spencer was told that David was dead.