Dan O'Brien didn't often think about murder, but when he did it was always met with a mild feeling of satisfaction. He imagined it was like squishing people, not unlike the way he'd squash the spiders that climbed up the cracked pink walls of his grandmother's house when he was a child. His gaze drifted back to the road, squinting through the sheets of vertical rain and fog. It was dangerous on the slippery country roads - he'd have to pull over. Suddenly, a silhouette of a figure - a woman, by the looks of it - appeared on the road.
'Jesus!' yelled Dan.
He slammed on the brakes - but it was too late. The car skidded and there was a sickening bump as the woman went down.
Dan sat there, his heart racing. That didn't just happen...he put his head on his hands, all the satisfactory thoughts from earlier evaporating. He was a murderer. It was like a terrible nightmare. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to wake up and realise it was all a nightmare, a horrible, terrible nightmare. Think think think. What could he do? Well, go to the police. Tell them that he was driving and a woman just...appeared? No one would believe him, he realised slowly. Plus...he had his whole life ahead of him. He was 27 for God's sake! He had met a beautiful girl who was happy to settle down with him and he was happy to live with her. He had a stable job and a cute dog. He couldn't just throw it all away! A life or the truth? The question pounded his head. No one would find her...a life or the truth? They'd never know...a life or the truth? Dan pulled away and drove off.
