Simpler Things

Part 3: The Body.

             The morning air was cold. Fog had gathered around the field and trees. I stretched as I slowly got out of bed. Rubbing my eyes, I got up and made my bed. The feeling was gone, replaced by hunger. My stomach rumbled in agreement. I stepped over to my dresser, opening the drawer I pulled out a pair of shorts and a sweater. A blue light caught my eye. It swiped across my room. I walked towards my window as a red stripe skipped the same route.
             Two police cars sat on the side of the road. An ambulance had came and sat almost on the sidewalk. A man in a uniform ran police tape around the willow tree. My mother stood, talking to a police man, next to my brother. Confusion trickled into my stomach, making it ache. Something snapped in my brain. Instinctively, I ran downstairs. Pounding down the stairs and jumping off my porch, I jogged to my mother. She had just finished saying,
"-We just found him like this" A tear rolled down her cheek. I looked over to the base of the tree. A boy, maybe 16-18 laid against the base of the tree. He was wearing a tattered yellow sweater with two black stripes down the arms, a pair of jeans and battered white sneaker. His dark hair was in a mess. His skin was a cold grey tone, his brown eyes looked hollow. A dark red stain was covering his entire stomach of his sweater. His face has to small slices from ear to ear. Red stains were left down his face and neck. A terrible smell lingered. Almost... sweet.
"He's been here all night." A police had crouched near him, looking up at the cop questioning my mum. He noticed me staring at the body and got up quickly. He came over, and said, "Go inside. Please." I did as I was told. Scared of the consequences if I didn't obey.
          Shock wrapped around my bones as I made my way to the front door. That feeling. Nausea threatened me, but my stomach was empty. All hunger I had was gone. I didn't know who that was. But they were dead. Gone. His lifeless body leaned against the tree. How? Who would do this- "Alyson?" I stopped, recognizing my brothers voice. He grabbed my shoulder and led me inside. I sat down on a stool, leaning onto the over hang. My brother fiddled with the new Keurig my mom's boyfriend got us. His name was Kyle. He was a lawyer at some big company. He wasn't filthy rich, but was well off: he loved to suprise my mom with little gifts here and there.
             The mug hit the counter with a cold click.
"Who is he?" I asked. My brother looked,
"You're welcome."
"Who is he?" I repeated my question.
"They're figuring that out." His voice was cold. I pressed,
"Who found him?" Charlie seemed agitated by all my questions but answered anyway,
"Somebody walking their dog. Matt... Matt, something-" I cut him off,
"Matt Young?" Matt was the youngest person to live alone on this block at 34. He never attended social events, and kept to himself. Once when I was litter I sold him a cup of lemonade, he seemed nice.
"Yeah, I think that was him. The police already questioned him." Charlie sipped from his own mug. I picked mine up and blew on it.
"Dad's coming." Charlie said . a sip. This didn't suprise me, having been a detective for over a decade.
"Isn't he too close?" I said. Charlie rolled his eyes, trying to smile, "You watch way too much Bones."
               After getting dressed, I sat in the living room. The morning air had began to warm up, the forecast called for 34°. Charlie had gone upstairs. A policeman had told us to keep this information to ourselves, until the police released it to the public. Apparently he had a name. James Cameron. I can't believe I didn't recognize him. He was my childhood best friend. I just couldn't believe he was dead. James was the nicest person you'd ever meet. This all left one question. Who did this? I needed to find out. I couldn't have just let this go. No, I'm too stubborn for that. I wish I did now, but let's not reminisce in the past. I would find out who killed James Cameron, just not in the way I planned.