Fiction

Three

Perfection.

Perfection.

Perfection.

Yes, that's what's required of me. 

I hate it.

Two

I do not want to be here. 

I do not want to be here.

I do not want to be here,

at the palace of the Aldridge family.

One

I hate the Aldridge family.

I hate the Aldridge family.

I hate the Aldridge family.

Chapter 16 

Ice Skating

Sadie St. Claire stood on the top porch step, a purple backpack in her hand and a smile on her face. 

Setting: An art classroom. 

Enter Ham and three of the Campers. 

Saturday, July 17th, 1954: 1:10pm

The most beautiful girl in the world is dead, and I am not sure whether I should be afraid of ghosts.

The long shadow stretched out on the path could easily have belonged to one person, but it instead trailed behind two lovers, synchronized in their every movement.

The snowflakes flurried down around the gravestones, darting across the cemetery and piling up on the already-frozen ground. Two figures made their way down the path, toward the pond, which had iced over in December.

The numbers of the clock were a striking crimson, like that lipstick Georgia liked to wear for going out. Peter blinked a few times, wishing for the stinging in his eyes to subside.