Climax

Madison

Earlier, 10:42 PM
Polaris Peak

I see her. Her downhill skis are stuck in a heap of snow, her long blonde hair is tinted with specks of red. I walk closer, relieved she wasn't lost in the deeper parts of the woods.

"Meg?" I call her name and pause. She doesn't reply. Was she unconscious? "Hey, Meg, it's okay."

I turn her over and gasp. It was a horrible sight. Her mouth was wide open, as if she were on the verge of screaming. Her eyes were freed of the endless life they usually held. They looked so empty, so calm. I felt uneasy. Her eyes were endless voids. She looked so lifeless, like her friendliness and pep was sucked out of her. This couldn't be her, I think. She didn't look like the Meg I knew.

I stare into her eyes and put my hand on her chest. The thing I wished for didn't happen. No heartbeat, no breath, no nothing.

It dawned on me. My best friend was dead. I suddenly become highly aware of my surroundings. There is blood everywhere in the snow. The forest is eerily silent. My mittens were soaked with melted snow. I try to call the others, but nothing comes out of my mouth. My best friend was dead, and I was the first to see her corpse.

I look around with my phone's dim flashlight. I force myself to block out the shock, eager to properly think. She died a couple meters from the slope in the forest, and not from natural causes, judging the pools of blood around her. What was I thinking? Of course it wasn't a natural death. She couldn't have perished from natural causes and let out so much blood. I felt stupid, playing detective, but it felt like I was doing the right thing.

I warily stood up. How could she have died, then?

I scan the place some more, shoving coniferous branches and leafless boughs out of my way.

As I start digging through a bush, the beam of light from my torch hit a small metallic item near her dead body, glinting under the faint moonlight. I cautiously reach for it, pick it up and turn it around, my grip still a little shaky. It was a shiny object caked with a red substance, staining my stark white gloves. Blood. I quickly let go of it and look at it it sink in the snow, leaving a trail of crimson. It couldn't be.

A bullet.

I feel sick. A lump of air goes up my throat as it closes up. My eyes start selling up, my nose starts to run. I cry until my eyes sting.

Whoever did this is dead.