The Death of Deardra

Without thinking, I grabbed up a milk bottle. Her head was tilted back toward me as she tried to push up the hatch. I slammed the bottle against the back of her head. She fell like a side of beef. The coffee can lid popped off and the gems went flying. I scrambled after them, expecting her to come flying at me. Then I stopped. I looked at her. She lay still.

I went to her; knelt down, her chest wasn’t moving. I put my ear to her chest, nothing. I stumbled to my work bench and found a small mirror, I held it before her mouth nothing.

Deardra was dead.

I think I was in shock. I could feel my heartbeat outside my chest. I retrieved my maglite, and shined it down on her face. Her face was pale, her eyes staring upward, her mouth ajar.

I turned off the light, wishing I’d never turned it on. Her look will stay with me forever. I straightened her out, put her arms at her sides. Then, I lay down next to her, my forearm over my eyes, and thought about how all this came about.

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