Hiding out in an abandoned shack from their abusive pasts, Allison and Ethan Bryson entertain themselves by imaging all sorts of curious characters near the frozen lake outside their hut.
But after Allison witnesses a man murder a young woman and di...
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It wasn't the the first time I've seen a dead body.
Years ago, when we were stuck living with Mr. Bryson, the body resembled Mandy's. Its pale flesh drained of the flowing life force that no longer pumped through its veins. If I were too young or innocent to know better, I would've easily mistaken the person to be asleep rather than dead. I desperately kept the memories of that day a bay. I shook those images from my mind and focused on the poor, pale body before me.
The whites of Mandy's eyes were bloodshot, a bruised and swollen bulge protruded from the front of her neck, and her mouth remained open as if she hadn't given up on that one last breath. With her arms splayed out at her sides, fallen where they may after an intense struggle, she would have looked like a frightened girl attempting to make a snow angel in the bed sheets if her pants weren't tangled around her ankles.
Owen sat on the floor on the other side of the bed near the lantern in the corner. His open pants were barely hugging his narrow hips. He didn't acknowledge me or Ethan as he breathed heavily and wiped his hair from his sticky, sweaty forehead.
Ethan slumped forward, holding the cold, wet cloth to his bruised temple. "How could you?" He looked to no one in particular, but the anger in his voice was definitely directed to Owen. His jaw clenched and he glared over the occupied bed to Owen.
Owen didn't look up. "I'm sorry."
"You're sorry?" A loud grunt escaped Ethan as he threw the wash cloth. It went flying through the air to splat against the wall on the other side of the room before dropping to the floor. "That's all you have to say?"
Owen finally looked up. "I fucked up. I-I couldn't control myself. The beer maybe. The things she said. Did you hear what she said?"
"You're blaming the beer? Her? What the hell is wrong with you?!" Ethan stood and his hands balled into fists at his side. "You killed her, Owen! She's dead."
"I was out of control." Owen nervously and repeatedly ran his hands through his hair. "I couldn't stop myself. I didn't mean to hurt her or you. I didn't mean to snap like that. Really, I'm sorry."
"Don't say another word," Ethan warned. "If I get my hands on you I can't promise that I can control myself either."
Owen shook his head with a look of fear in his eyes I never thought I would witness. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Ethan. You or Allison. I'm such an asshole for hitting you. I know it. I can't even look at you, knowing the pain- I'm so sorry. Let me fix it, Ethan. I can fix it."
When Owen came around the bed to approach Ethan, Ethan's face twisted in anger. "Forget about me. What about her?" He glanced at Mandy sprawled on the bed.
"I can fix that. Let me fix us too." Owen nodded, desperate to convince Ethan and maybe himself.
"Stay back, Owen." Ethan wasn't having it. The no nonsense attitude I been looking for in him finally emerged. "I swear, you don't want to get near me."
