MISTAKE.

Out in the back garden, peonies [[bloom->1]]. {(set: $bitter to "no") (set: $fearful to "no") (set: $now to "no")(set: $later to "no")}

Their heavy perfume does little to conceal the scent of rotting (link-reveal: "meat")[. That, you acknowledge, is your own fault. You are an amateur in the art of corpse disposal, after all. This is your first try. You can't be expected to get it exactly [[right->2]]].

It has been four days since she drowned, and you are still waiting for someone to ask you about it. You're waiting for the sirens. None have arrived in the past four days, but that doesn't make you feel better. Nothing does, [[lately->3]].

You should be fine, eventually. This empty summer, between your high school graduation and your freshman year of college somewhere far away from here, is supposed to be one of the best of your life. It has mostly been like looking in a mirror. You see each crystalline reflection, but nothing in is [[real->4]].

You are perched on a precipice, balanced between one section of your life and the next. There are two ways this moment in time can go, and you must make each of your choices carefully. You close the window, trying not to smell the peonies. You lie back on your bed. You are distant enough from most main roads that you can't hear traffic, but you keep thinking that you hear [[sirens->5]].

You check your (link-reveal: "phone")[. THREE NEW MESSAGES. They're all from your best friend. She is a girl who lives nearby; you are in the same grade, and met in middle school. You'd like to think, though, that you don't love her out of proximity. You'd like to think that you will love her even when you both are at different colleges. You'd like to think you will love her [[forever->6]]].

BFF (sparkling-heart) yeah i dont know things have been getting weird at home because my sister still hasnt shown like...idk. just [[weird->7]]

You stare down at your phone screen. You can't (link-reveal: "decide")[: should you tell her? Should you let her know that her sister is decomposing in your yard? No. Not [[yet->8]]].

A lot of your problems, after all, are caused by not thinking. You didn't plan to push your best friend's sister into the icy lake, and you didn't really think she was serious when she started flailing and choking. You didn't consider the consequences of leaving her there, drowning. You didn't even intend to go back to the lake that day, and you didn't realize how bad it would look that you didn't call an ambulance until after you'd buried the [[body->9]].

You didn't take the time to think through your actions at all. You just let every hateful instinct in your body carry you: from the shove into the lake to the shovel breaking the earth of the flowerbed, it was calcified resentment and terror that moved your limbs. You have resolved, now, to be more careful. To think think things [[through->10]].

You have been thinking a lot, lately. You've been thinking that you're [[bitter->11a]]. / [[fearful->11b]].

You don't know what's wrong with you, really. The girl in the garden was not your burden to bear. She didn't burn //your// sketchbooks or bruise //your// arms. You had been mostly cordial with the girl in the garden for years, on your part because you didn't want to make her angrier and on her part because she didn't care to hurt you. You cared to hurt her, but it was not reciprocated. She only ever hurt your friend, and only where no one else could [[see->12]]. {(set: $bitter to "yes")}

You're a murderer, now, even if it was an accident. It's too late to go to the police without some sort of blame falling on your shoulders, and maybe on your best friend's. Your best friend would never have hurt her sister, of course, but she is the motive for your crime. Her sister, after all, never shied away from hurting (link-reveal: "//her//")[. And you don't want your friend to be angry. Her sister has tortured her in dozens of ways, small and agonizing, but it's her sister. Maybe your best friend wanted to take her revenge herself. Likely she didn't want her dead at all; maybe she wanted to forgive her sister. This is not your sister and not your battle. You took away your best friend's [[choice->12]]]. { (set: $fearful to "yes")}

ONE NEW [[MESSAGE->13]].

BFF (sparkling-heart) can i come over? shes still not back and i dont wanna be here when she does show [[up->14]]

YOU ==> of course you can! just come on over we'll have to stay inside, though it's too hot to go [[outside->15]]

Oh, God. You agreed as you always do: thoughtlessly. Only after you'd sent the last message did you remember the real reason you haven't been outside for (link-reveal: "days")[. Because of the [[smell->16]]].

BFF (sparkling-heart) great ill be there! maybe in an hour? i gotta clean up first see you [[soon->17]]

An hour. That might be long enough. You have to do something with the body before she arrives. Your parents haven't been home for a week now and won't return for another still, visiting your mother's sister. That means, because they caught a bus to the airport, that you still have the car. You don't have permission to drive it while they're gone, but that didn't stop you four days ago. You won't let it stop you [[now->18]].

You exit your bedroom; you open the door to the backyard. The stench hits you like a physical blow, intensified by the summer heat. Peonies and putrifying [[flesh->18.5]].

You (link-reveal: "dig")[. It's a lot fouler than it was four days ago. Your stomach turns: her face is no longer a color that resembles human skin but her eyes, locked open by the stiffness of death, are the same brown as your best [[friend's->20]]].

She seems to stare at you as you unearth more and more of her shallow grave. {(if: $fearful is "yes")[You try to close them at one point, but the sensation of the eyelid under your gloved fingers is terrifying and inflexible. They remain open.](if: $bitter is "yes")[You stare back at them for a moment, a glare: you're not sorry. She can't make you sorry.]} You wrap her body up in the tarp, lash it shut, and pull the car as close as you can to the back gate. You'll fill the hole in later, if there's time. You pop the trunk, and deposit the corpse-bundle [[inside->21]].

You sit, for a moment, in the driver's seat. You try to think past the racing of your heart. You have forty minutes remaining. You could just leave the body here, or stash it in the shed or something, to be re-buried once your friend has gone home. Or not; you could find a more permanent hiding place. You'll deal with it [[later->22a]]. / [[now->22b]].

You have time, you think to yourself: you can deal with her after. In forty minutes, you will offer your best friend sanctuary, as you often have before. The priority was not her sister when the sister was alive, and the body isn't the priority now. You re-open the trunk, and heave the wrapped body back toward the shed. Kicking the door open, you survey its interior: there is a shelving unit in the back that seems adequate. You shove it out of place, tuck the corpse behind it, and slide it back into place.

You need to be rid of her now.

The path through the garden curves, and you follow it to the toolshed. It's not that far from the flowerbeds. Inside, it's musty and dark. You yank the string to turn on the light. Several shovels are piled in one corner. There are rubber gloves. You pull on the gloves, select the largest shovel, and you grab a [[tarp->19]].