It struck me as peculiar how such a beautiful beach is left unattended, seems almost dreadful. Where all the happy marriages had become the death of both partners. How many who've come never came back. Why's that?
She told me about her fathers' death, it was on the beach as well, said he drowned. Impressive. He always had a thing for valuables, always seemed to carry good luck with him. Once he died, she called me selfish, I don't think I am, just because I asked about his stuff.
I'm not a selfish person, or narcissistic. She probably just has some mental illness or something, she's going mad. She has a lot of pent up anger. She used to be humble, she hated the colour black, said it reminded her of the void.
Personally, black is a beautiful colour, but the way she described it makes it seem like, she was indulged in it. Kept talking about it like as if it was the definition of death. I always thought she might've had something going on.
It's starting to make sense though. The accusing, the lying, the descriptive usage.
I mean you'd probably assume she's got some form of a mental disorder. Or maybe she's a psycho. Who knows, she accused me of stealing from her.
I heard something in the bushes, I turned around. Nothing, maybe I'm hearing things. I sometimes can't tell the difference between what's reality and what's not.
I look up at the sky, I hear footsteps I turn around, I see her.
"Erin?" She doesn't take her eyes off me, she's a weird girl. I turn back around. She always has a suspicious demeanor.
What happened? I don't know. I wake up, did I fall asleep, was it a dream? No, I'm on the beach. Erin lies next to me, is she dead? Her chest doesn't rise she seems to have scratches all over her body. I look at my own hands, they're bloodied.
Did I do it? No. I couldn't have. Right?