The Golfer: Difference between revisions

When I got to James, I noticed that there was blood coming out of his head. I shook him a little to see if there was any reaction. He groaned a little bit and I sighed in relief. As his eyes opened I noticed they were completely blacked out by his pupils. “Shit,” I thought, “I fucked him up pretty bad”. First I thought about taking him to the hospital but didn’t want to explain how this had happened. I couldn’t just leave him there, and I know that if I took him back to the truck my friends would never let me hear the end of it. I’d be called faggotbitch, lover boy, and all kinds of shit for the rest of my life. It was then that I decided to kill him. It was as if his black eyes could see directly into my soul and discover the darkest secrets I held. I had to make sure no one knew these things about me, especially not him. I stood up and looked around. The guys had finished and were back at the truck waiting. I had to make this quick. I raised my wedge above my head and brought it down as hard as I could into the side of James’ head. I struck right against the temple and saw his body go limp. I felt for a pulse and found nothing. I even felt for his breathing but there was none. Knowing I wasn’t the only person on the course that day, I hurried to grab my clubs and get to the truck, leaving James there all alone, dead.