Butterfly Effect

1 - Corpses

"What's the worst that could happen?"

Ava observes me from the rearview mirror of her car. Her eyes scan me, waiting for a reaction. Instead, she is faced with my grim expression. My lips press tightly against each other, my brows furrowed.

Although I've only known this girl for about an hour, I already feel like smashing her head against the steering wheel. Then again, it sort of feels like I am to blame for the current situation I'm in. You see, I knew I was damned the moment I decided to help her. I can't explain it. It just felt like I was obliged to do something-anything-to make me feel like I was a good person. So when I saw her standing there with her bloodstained shirt and those dull eyes, that at the same time begged me for assistance, I couldn't refuse.

Don't get me wrong; I never thought of myself as being that type of person - the type that wants to help everyone, regardless of their behaviour toward them. I know I said I had only know her for a short time, but I meant personally. Of course, I have seen her before on numerous occasions. We go to the same school, see each other from across the hallway, have the same teachers, but I barely know anything about her.

To be fair, I don't actually know if she is a piece of shit or not. I assume, like I do with everyone else. Sometimes people give me bad energy, and she's definitely doing that-even from ten meters away.

So here I am, sitting with some morbid stranger, getting more uneasy every second. I eye her knuckles, which pale from her strong grip on the steering wheel, my gaze moving over her long bony fingers. Instead of the red-painted nails I expect to see, recalling all the times the colour caught my eye from across the school corridors, I'm met with chipped nails rimmed with blood. The bile in my stomach rises as I'm forced to think about the strange events of the past night.

Fingers snap in front my face.

"Cat got your tongue?"

Ava's soft laugh fills the silence in the car, something so strangely serene in the midst of all this madness. I have no clue what on earth could be so amusing in this wretched situation we're in.

"There are going to be three dead corpses by midnight if you don't watch the road," I growl, watching as the smirk falls from her face in an instant. Her hands grip the wheel tighter, and I almost feel bad for snapping at her like that until I realize why we're out here in the first place. I start subconsciously picking the skin around my fingernails, my eyes flitting over to her every few seconds just to make sure she won't disappear. In the darkness, the shade around her face makes her cheekbones stand out, and her eye bags appear much darker than they actually seem.

Damn. I should really watch Corpse Bride again. By now, I could already be snuggled up in bed, doing just that. Instead, I am here. With her.

Ava pulls to the right, bending into a dirty alleyway. What a surprise. It could've been anything, but of course, it has to be the last place I would want to be seen at two o'clock in the morning. Garbage bags are strewn across the street, like some caveman has been flinging them in search for food. Great.

A black shape, which is almost too large to be a garbage bag, is spread out on the floor, and in the darkness, I can just about make out an arm protruding from the mass. Even better.

A corpse. Our corpse, if we don't get the hell out of here.

I glare at Ava, mortified and annoyed at the same time. Annoyed at myself for being here. Mortified that this actually didn't turn out to be some sick joke. Hell, a part of me even expected a surprise party. Weird approach to getting me out here in an alleyway, but spending my birthday trying to hide a body isn't exactly what I thought I would be doing.