Blood on my Hands

❦ Chapter Three, Nobody ❦

        She lied over them.

        They haven't even bothered to check for a pulse.

        They just keep getting lazier. It's not her fault she ended up here.

        She looked up at the sky, and then back down at the dried blood, soaking her dress. She lifted a bit off the cloth, in a jerky, unsteady movement. She let go, smearing the near dry blood on her hands around like watercolors.

        Maybe she should wait until morning, when they came out to haul the new bodies here. The bodies had been stacking up for longer than most supposed; the rotted ones at the very bottom were mostly bones, liquid skin, and...hair. They towered higher and higher, and eventually the land gained so many bodies the roof needed to be removed and the fences needed to be pushed back. There were other less known piles, diminishing the theory those had about the 'government' organizing it. Just about anyone could start a pile in their own backyard, although by the morning after the night they set the bodies out, they'd end up in this pile. It wasn't a thing anyone tried to hide. Even children would play near the bodies. It had become normal.

        She was here due to another failed attempt.

        Some stars drifted around, probably surveilling the pile. She stayed as stiff until the blinking stars drifted out of eyeshot. After she was certain they were gone, she sat up, breathing through her mouth. Her damp hair stuck to her neck and her heartbeat was fast and faint. She stumbled to her bare feet, looking at the view above the bodies.

The moon was high in the sky, yet the area above the trees was a glowing purple. She grinned, thinking she might get out of this place. She took a step toward the light, and began tumbling down the pile. Her hair blew in the wind, her dress billowing and a grin on her face. She collapsed at the bottom of the pile on her thin neck.

Snap.

The next day they had pushed the twelve-year-old under the rest, with the smarter corpses.

_______________________________

Some things are better left unknown. Her journal had all of this written down, and said information no one should know. No one outside of this utopia should know.

The journal couldn't be bothered to be burnt, and was left in her nimble arms in the pile.

'There's no use trying to hide it now,' was written in the sky the next day. Everyone who read the message understood, and those who went to the tracks brought all they knew with them.