I remember (part 3)
I remember the excitement of ripping open a well wrapped gift, and then faking a smile when it's something I didn't like.
I remember blinking back green and white spots when I stared at the sun for too long.
I remember digging through mud, at the dead of night, dirt collecting in my nails, as I searched for forgotten corpses. The satisfying crunch when flesh met bone. Panicked laughter, chests heaving, we hauled the decaying corpse into the back of the van. Trying but failing to hold back my disgust, I waited for my companion to be seated behind the wheel, as I gulped in air through my mouth. Be brave, be brave, I chanted to myself, even though I was anything but.
A moment taken to straighten out my coiling gut, I swallowed my doubts, and climbed into the passenger seat. That's what happens when you blindly accept an offer. I had no inkling that a casual walk in the graveyard would mean digging up old bodies.
And yet here I was, desperately attempting to keep a straight face.
The drive was silent. Till I spoiled it.
“What the hell was that?”
His mouth lifted, into what should have been a mischievous smirk, but the shadowed glow cutting across his cheekbone, from the street lights lining the road, made him appear more sinister.