Ketchup Stains

4. Beryl Trail Road

In the middle of Beryl Trail Road on one dark, brisk winter's night. Jeffery Samuel Frederick had turned from man to monster as brisk as the wink of an eye; for he wished he hadn't looked into those soulless, clouded eyes of blue that night. They seemed to freeze in place even more-so that the frost began to glaze over them, stuck in a hard rock between the freezing wintry snow and death itself. Death--the word alone was enough to send someone sinking into the depths of utter despair. A foreign place so misunderstood that not a single being in the universe could ever grasp properly.

If I go to the cops, he thought. It's over for me. What will my life become of this?

The winters wind seemed to push at Jeffery's tall figure from all sides, causing the hood on top of his head to fly backwards, exposing his pale neck to the brutal chill of mid-December. Tears that were continuously escaping his eyes and running down the sides of his redden cheeks mimicked the action of his dripping snot, that was soon to be splattered across his blubbering mouth and coated down the front neck of his jacket. He no longer could refrain his body from shuddering head to toe, racking with sobs and sporadic, hysterical breathing. He knew driving was deadly, but he never once thought it could come to this. There was also the blood, lots of it too, caked into the side of the individual that was currently sprawled out and spilling into the streets of Grabbles Ville. The streets where people were soon to be driving past on their way to work or school. It was only a matter of time, and time was something Jeffery seemed to never have enough of.

And so, instead of listening and drawling conclusions towards the logical and purely equitable side of decision making, Jeffery had decided to enter into a fraction of his mind that he'd never known to exist. A well-covered corner that's not so easily accessible by all human beings, if, nearly impossible for some at all.

The newly fabricated Jeffery Frederick retrieved the shovel from the bed of his truck--and the beginnings of a burial process off an all too familiar road had begun.

. . .

His long fingers curled around the steering wheel.

"So, uh, where do you um, live?" Jeffery stuttered, trying his absolute best to keep his cool. In doing so, he focused his gaze outside the trucks windows where leaf changing trees passed by in a honey-like glow under the moonlit sky.

"1011 Beryl Trail Road, off of Henry Hills Boulevard," Erin replied, sitting on the passengers side with her hands in her lap. She, also took note of the beautiful landscape before her and the Autumn leaves that were starting to pile up out on the curbside of nearby houses. They reminded her of how much she loved cold weather and the feeling of soft sweaters and warm apple cider. She wondered if Jeff enjoyed fall time in Grabbles Ville as much as she did. She also wondered about Darius and how he was doing at the hospital. His poor little arm, she thought rather glumly.

"Oh I know the general area. You'll probably have to help me out the closer we get though."

Erin nodded in agreement and glanced at him. She couldn't help but notice the pads of his fingertips tapping nervously on the brim of the steering wheel. He's probably just worried about Darius. She let out a small sigh. Aren't we all?

"Oh wow, would ya look at that moon," Jeff exclaimed, he started to feel the moist dampness of his sweaty palms the more he tried to conversate with the girl. "Yanno, you kind of look like it, with your round face and all."

With your round face and all? God could you be anymore awkward? Jeffery fought with his own conscious. In attempt to backtrack, he quickly added, "it's a beautiful pale color too, sort of like a Nilla Wafer. You like Nilla Wafers right?"