Chapter 8
Rosalyn drifted dazedly out of sleep. Her alarm clock was blaring loudly next to her bed and she reached out and smacked the off button. She dragged herself out of bed and proceeded to get ready for work. She was sore everywhere and at first she couldn't think of why. She considered calling in sick, but soon abandoned the thought when she remembered the exact reason she felt that way. Oh, she thought with a grin. Never mind. I'll go to work. That would make an interesting excuse though. I can just see the little yellow Post-it note stuck to the boss' desk, "Rosalyn McLeod can't come in to work today. Excuse: too sore from romp the previous night." She giggled to herself as she picked up the paper, but she stopped when she saw the headline:
LOCAL BOY DROWNED IN WELL...
TRAGEDY OR HOMICIDE?
Rosalyn's breath caught in her throat. She read on and confirmed. Yes. Steven Lloyd was dead. He'd been drowned in an old well. At first it was thought that he was playing in the well and the rope snapped, but given the fact that he'd been out in the middle of the night, the screams for help, not to mention that upon inspection of the fibers in the rope it was found to have been cut, it was becoming increasingly clear that this was no accident.
Smart cops, Rosalyn thought sarcastically. She scoffed. Of course Michael had done it. She couldn't believe it. Well, actually she could, but she hadn't meant for it to be like this. Not yet anyway.
A well? She shuddered at the thought. Drowning was an awful way to die. Hopefully he died on impact. It was a terrible thought, but it was better than struggling in the dark, cold water until you had no strength left and eventually went under. At least that's the way she saw it.
It was inevitable anyway, she thought. There's only one left now. One more and then Michael will be free. We'll be free- together. The thought made her smile a little despite the dreadful acts necessary to bring it about. She put the paper in the trash and headed off to work.
TO BE CONTINUED...
~*~