Last Summers Secrets✔

truth

The slight breeze that caressed out faces put a smile on Keagans face. His  bright green eyes are shone while the night sky lifted each side of his mouth.

"You know Stella, you intrigued me from the first day I saw you. Your brown hair and pretty eyes." he whispers leaning closer to me.

"But...you," he laughs and reached behind hjm.

"You, think you're life is so perfect. But baby trust me, it's not." he continues and His hand pulls out a black object.

The recognisable black object was pointed directly at me. The gun flickered in the light as he brought it up and motioned for me to stand.

I stood up taking slow steps backwards.

"You're a whore. Just like your mother." he said laughing.

"What?" I ask holding up my hands.

He smiles, throwing the gun at my feet just as the sound of a gun being fired echoes through the empty woods.

I scream And cover my eyes as Keagans body lays limp on the grass.

"Keagan?" I whisper taking a step back.

The sound of a gasp and footsteps make their way to my ears.

What the hell just happened. Keagan lays there, blood surrounding him.

I run knowing that I should go to the police but I osnk down against the first building in sight and cry.

Keagans dead and I don't even know why.

The slight throbbing that entre my head stays with me throughout most of the week.

Blake has been silent ever since I told him I knew.

Until now.

"We need to talk."

"No." I respond.

"Please." he begs holding out his hand.
I take it and he leads me to the parking lot. Schools over.

"I-I can't get it out of my head. I went back to where Keagans body was and...it was gone. No trace of anything. Did, did you do something Stella?" he asks suspicious.

My eyes water.

"No."

My head swirls and I feel myself fall slightly. I catch myself against the wall.

A few girls walk past while mumbling 'slut'.

"Stella, what happened." he pushes.

"I-he was talking about my parents and then then he threw the gun and my feet and he just fell, I didn't shoot him Blake." the words coming out of my mouth were causing nausea and I felt guilty all over again as if it was my fault.

"We need to go."

"What,why?" I ask in a rushed tone.

"Ken just texted, there's people looking for you, cops, they didjt seem like it though, c'mon.

The only thing that crossed my mind as we got into the car is who else knows what I supposedly  did last summer?