pawn
There you will lay, face first in a pile of cold sand. Waves crashing against the rocks not twenty feet from you. The only other noise for miles would be the crying seagulls that circle the sky above you.
You will finally start to stir. You won't acknowledge the fact that you are awake, you'll have to lay there for a while before you come to the conclusion.
Your head will ring. This will hurt, and that will be the first thing you notice. A pounding against your skull, rhythm in sync with the sounds of the see. The ceaseless cawing.
You will feel sick to your stomach. You will feel bile rushing to the back of your throat, and you will rush to your hands and knees. You will throw up in the sand.
Finally, you will regain composure. Stand up. Look off in the distance. The shun will be high over the reflection, causing the glare of the shimmering water to hurt your eyes. You will squint and look away.
You will not know how you got here. You will try to remember, but you can't. It will only make your head hurt more. It will only make you feel even more nauseous. It will be temporarily hard to breathe. The lump in your throat will suddenly make itself apparent.
You will turn around, and notice the great forest off in the distance. Suddenly you will realize where you are. And soon you will start piecing together where you have been.
What's going on? What have you done?
You will ask yourself these questions. You will search frantically within the depths of your mind what led up to these events, and as you do, you might look down.
You will suddenly notice that your gloves splattered with red.
Your hands and face all smeared with blood and dirt.
You might look down and see her.
You didn't know she was there before. You didn't even notice her.
There in the sound, surrounded by a neatly crafted circle of rocks.
But this changes everything.
This can't be right, you will say. This can't be real.
But it will be.
And you might even start crying. This will be the most horrifying experience in your life. You will beg and plead to whatever god you believe in that this can be reversed until the truth finally sets in. You can't do anything.
You can't save her.
She's dead. She's dead, and it's your fault.
Her organs removed, and laid beside her. Her dry blood staining the stand, making it clot together in a dark burgundy/brown crust.
You will want to puke again, but you will have nothing left.
You will look around desperately for the knife. You won't even have to return to Knothole to see all your dead friends to make this decision.
No.
You will simply pick up the knife, and plunge it into the bottom right side of your stomach. You will bring it across to your left side, turn the blade and pull it up.
By the time this task is finished with you will have served your purpose, and you will be right where you belong.
And you will not remember any of this.
Do you understand? Do you follow me, hedgehog?