The Boy

         Sometimes I often think back to the craziness of childhood. The fun and games I had with all of the kids in the neighborhood. Playing tag, and guns, and hide and go seek. Let's be honest there were not a lot of things better than a giant game of hide and seek in your own little neck of the woods when you were a 12 year old boy. 4 streets to play on with the sun going down left for infinite possibilities for all 12 year olds. It seems I was the only one to really take advantage of it though, because it was back then that I was able to legitimately (in a manner of speaking) hone my craft.
         Most 12 year old boys traversing down the road that I was traveling start off with small animals or even just ants or an ant hill. My only means of progressions was with the Harshbargers cat. When I was 11 it followed me home from the bus stop, (because in those days there were actual bus stops, you didn't just get picked up at your house) and it wouldn't go away. I did the usual things like yelling Scat, and even kicking it. Well the only logical thing to do when it wouldn't listen was pick it up and put it in my book bag.
         I did miss that book bag though, so at least I was remorseful of that. It was 1995 though, so what kid wouldn't miss the Power Rangers book bag he just got for Christmas. As I dug the hole near the lake in my neighborhood, I was very sad I would never see it again, but it was replaced by the simple amount of sheer glee I got knowing the cat would be suffering inside for hours, gosh even days now that I think about it, if I would have left him a hole to breathe out of. Stupid.
         It was only logical than the little Courtney Brooks would suffer the same fate when she wouldn't get out of the hiding spot I was trying to hide in. Stupid little girl thought she could hide under my parents camper in my own yard and I wouldn't get pissed about it.
         My name is Gabriel Briggs and I suppose you could consider this my memoirs, but it is more an exploration of my childhood. A way of helping me define who I am as an adult and what is next. I am not in jail, and I am in not feeling sorry for the things I did in Ohio as a boy, I am simply revisiting them. Why? Why the hell not? I personally find it invigorating knowing a boy of just 12 years old could kill 5 of his peers in just a year and get away with it.
         It's not as bleak as you would think though. I did not simply kill other kids because I was insane. Let me start with Courtney and our game of hide and seek. Stay with me though because I know in the long run you will agree with me. Except for this first run, of course. I just didn't want to get grounded.
         It was one of those amazing summer games of Hide 'n' Seek on the flower streets of our small Ohio town. Little Courtney was only 8 but we let her play with us, but only this game, because the more that played the more fun it really was. The way we played, every time someone was found they joined the team of the seeker, and I tell you it really was an incredibly fun game to play.
         The problem with Courtney was that she always hid in the same spot. She had for years mow. Out by that lake behind the apartments at the end of the street. The problem this time of course was that just a few nights before that I had "lost" my backpack the same night the Harshbargers "lost" their cat, under the same tree that Courtney liked to hide under.
         When she got home right before we started the game I knew I was in trouble. Brett Thornton was it, and started counting at the street light we called base.
         "Ok guys," he started, "Same rules as always. It is..."
         He looked at his watch.
         "7 now." He said, "I will count to 300, no one can go to base until the sun is down far enough to tell the circle that this street light does here on the corner. Make to this street light after it is on without me tagging you and you are safe to not be it next game. If I find you or anyone else that is on my team finds you, you could be the seeker next game."
         He started counting and we all took off. I knew where Courtney was going so I didn't have to sneak to follow her. She ran down the road headed for the apartments, and I went behind the apartments across the street, heading for the gravel path before the cornfield.
         I was a little chubby and self-conscious back then so even in the summer I had my dark green hoody on. I know it didn't matter to the other kids, they still thought I was fat, but just like people today, I thought it helped. As I walked down the gravel way I took my pack of Salems I stole my mom and lit up. I was in no hurry. Courtney would be exactly where she always was, and I didn't think Brett would go to her first. It was no fun chasing a little girl when you were an almost 13 year old boy. Brett would be going after the older girls Sabrina, and Abbie.
         The warm summer air was blowing against my back as I approached the lake. I turned around not really worried that someone would follow me, just making sure the only thing back there was our town water tower. Perfect.
         "Oh Courtney," I whispered to myself as I peered around the corner at her, "Why do you have to be messing with the stupid ground why you hide?"
         I looked a little closer and she was absent mindedly digging exactly where I needed her not to be messing around. Tossing my cigarette aside I walked over to Courtney smiling of course, and slid onto the grass next to her Indian style because that's what all the cool kids did in the 90s.
         "Hey Gabe," she said as she sat up and stopped digging at the dirt, "You can't hide here this is my spot."
         "Hey Courtney," I replied, "I know, but I didn't feel much like playing today, so I thought I would come sit next to you." I lied.
         She shrugged and went back to messing with the dirt. All I could think of was that I know she had seen me with that book bag before and maybe I left a strap not buried? Or maybe it wasn't deep enough? Was that smell in the air the cat? Crap.
         "Hey Cort," I started, "Why don't you stop digging in the dirt? I bet your mom would be pretty pissed if you came home with dirt under your nails.
         1995 was the year of O.J. Simpsons criminal trial began, Bill Clinton was president and it was also the year the vocabulary of Americans was downgraded just a notch by a movie that became much more popular that it should have.
         "As if." Courtney said as she rolled her eyes, and continued to dig.
         This could not happen, without any reluctance I grabbed the rock next to me, and bashed her blonde head in. Again. I did it for times without muttering a single word. I hated having to do this, but I just couldn't get in trouble. Not this summer!
         After she stopped moving I lay down beside her and looked at her for a while. According to my calculator watch it was only 7:15. I had plenty of time before Brett would come this way. I looked around for what to do with her body. I couldn't bury her it would look to obvious, and to big. I was scared the houses across the lake could see me if I did anything so self-evident as bury a body before the sun went down.
         Bingo.
         There was a broken tree stump on the other side of the lake that was just a little bigger than the body was. I ran over, grabbed it, and pressed it up against the body so I could just roll her on top of it. I took my shoe laces off, and arranged them flat on the ground. First rolling the tree stump over them, and then the body on top of the stump, and started to tie a knot. Perfect size. Now I had to get it to the bottom of the lake.
         I didn't take off my hoodie or jean shorts because I was afraid someone would see me and think I was fat. All I took off was my socks so they wouldn't get soaked, leaving my lace less shoes on so I wouldn't step on anything in the lake. Using the super human strength that comes to those desperate I used my frail 12 year old muscles and lifted the log and the body over my shoulder. With a quick glance in all directions I walked into the lake.
         I went as deep as I could go, and dropped them both in as close to the middle as I could possibly go. I swam back ashore, grabbed the rock I had used and threw it on the other side of the lake, and then I went for a swim.
         Not 5 minutes had passed when, "GABE," Brett shouted from the shore, "I'm not climbing my ass into the lake but consider your lard ass found k?"
         I nodded yes because I didn't want him coming in here anyway. It was time for Courtney to rest and me to help Brett find everyone else.
         Ever since that day, Courtney has been following me around. Some days she talks to me and others she does not. There have been a few days like today when I am writing that it looks like she is trying to talk to me but no words come out. Who knows what being dead is like, so I can't really help her can I? Every now and then when I am writing this, I glance over at her as she is staring back at me with those pure white eyes. Her hair constantly is wet but thankfully it goes away by itself so I don't have to mop it up.
         This is the first part of the story of my 12 year old self. I think now I just need to switch to the tab with eBay open to see if my barely used Power Rangers book bag has received any more bids. Up to $200 now. Good night all.