This one ended up being super long 
Miserable Town
The first death involved with my short lifetime was Betty. Betty Mathews was a church going woman, I had never seen her without a bible in her hand or a cross round her neck. I was playing outside with my new skates, Icenhour, though I can’t remember the color of them or how well they worked; I can still recall the brand. It was a blistering hot summer. My breath came out in giant gasps. I was lucky no one walked up to me to offer their inhaler. I laid out “sungazing” on Betty’s front yard. I don’t think she would mind, if she did, I could always make up for it by polishing up on proverbs with her.
I considered a lot of things underneath my blanket of sunshine. My fifth birthday was approaching at a rapid pace. Perhaps I could get a new helmet. I heard Betty’s front door open and jumped up. There was no one there. The door was nearly pushed off the metal clasps that held it together, it swung madly. There was a feeling I couldn’t yet describe, but now as I look back at it, it was a feeling of foreboding.
I took off my skates, thinking that somehow Betty would be mad at me. Yelling some verse from her bible that just barely, if at all, pertained to the situation.
She was laying face down on her kitchen floor, her bible thrown astray, right in front of my feet. I recall feeling faint, a sudden wave of tiredness overcame me, my body felt too heavy for my feet and my vision blurred. I landed on my behind. Maybe someone lent me some strength, so I could move to her, to turn her over. She tired to speak, but only crimson drips came out. Blood. I grasped her hands and spoke out the verse I heard her say all the time. She smiles, even though I butchered it beyond repair. Her eyes close and she breathes silently. Although at the time, I thought she was still alive, I still wept and cradled her as if she would wake up at any moment. Chasing me out like I’m one of the demons. I lean in, aiming for her forehead with care, and gently give a kiss like my dad would.
He said they would make everything better. A comforting lie.
When I turned seven, I had a morbid fascination with death. A silly one at that. I would cast aside the random tidbits about a neighbor or family member passing, after all, it seemed like that happened every day. It wasn’t until my best friend, Natalie died that I really began to question it. I spent all week nulling over insane theories, witches, aliens, vampires, ghosts, anything and everything. I sat down with my dad that weekend. A strict poker face scrunched up all my features, I suppose it would have my dad worried, that is until I spoke. I decided that everyone, including Natalie, had been flushed down the toilets of their loved ones in ceremonious manner. Just like we had down with my pet fish.
Only now I was on the cusp of eight-teen. Sitting outside stoking a fire I made hours ago. The flames danced and changed color, illuminating a very terrified teen. An exasperated sigh forced itself out of my lips, my joke was hysterical, but I can tell it was not worth it.
“Sit down skater boy, I’m not going to eat you.” I roll my eyes when he flinches, he always played the tough guy in high school, some act to get random girls that had no dignity. “We went to the same school remember. I’m ‘Vegetarian Voldemort’.”
Finally, he relaxes. Great. I’ve continued my most embarrassing nickname to this random kid. He takes a seat in such a slow way that a snail could get to safety before he grazes the wood. He looks as if he wants to say something, but then decides he’ll get gutted.
“So why are you out here? Long way from our lovely hometown, isn’t it?” I lean back, letting the fire heat up my legs. I wait for a response, but none come. I’m never making another cannibal joke with this kid. “Jesus, you’ve got some real issues with comedy, don’t you?”
He just stares at the embers with an unreadable expression. His fingers twitch every time I speak, and his legs fly higher than a rocket. We’re a long way from where we grew up. He must be heading in the same direction. Maybe that’s why he’s so nervous. He thinks I’m one of them. A silence passes over us. I could tell him the truth. Open up to him and get him on my side. However, that could be a big mistake. I don’t know where or who ‘skater boy’ has been near for, well, all his life. He could be one of them. Trying to trick me.
“Alright, listen up, instead of cracking jokes I’m going to crack my knuckles.” I stretch out my hands, enjoying the chorus of pops. He looks at me like I’ve gone insane. I try not to dwell on just how happy that makes me. “We’re here for similar reasons. I don’t know who it is but you’re here for someone.”
He moves a bit closer to the fire as if I’ve finally said something right.
“I’m here for my dad. And I’m going to do something incredibly stupid and wrong.” A smile graces my lips as he draws closer by instinct. I whisper in a conspiratorially way. “I’ve got a feeling that you have the same intentions.”