What are you doing?
1129 Words
The dirt gradually covered the man’s legs and just as he turned to fill the shovel with dirt, he heard a voice that was as clear as sky.
“What are you doing?”
Milo’s entire body stiffened and images of prison flashed in his mind. He was dead, he was dead. His fingers tightened on the shovel, clenching so close that they turned white.
If it was one person and he...
“Did you just...try to bury me?” The voice was young with a clear air of arrogance. It was coming from behind him, not just behind him, below him.
Exactly six feet.
Maybe a normal person would turn back, explain the situation and apologise but then again, a normal person would not have borrowed a pickup truck, carried a person who was lying on the couch and head into the forest to bury them. He had been so sure the person was dead but that was not the point right now.
A normal person would have called the police but he didn’t so he was not normal. Milo swallowed and did the exact thing a not normal person would do. He left the shovel there, turned and ran.
The man was not dead. The man was not dead. The man was not dead!
Just now, he had tried to bury someone who was still alive. Before the man could crawl out of the ground, Milo should have already reached the truck and is far away from here.
Guilt rushed for him, gripping his chest and refusing to let go. He had purposefully reached the deepest part of the forest to bury the body. If the man could not find his way back, he might just die.
That would be,...
But what could Milo do? His head had never pounded so hard in his life. He had slept for barely two hours and had such a stimulating day; he just wanted to go home and pretend that this entire day from when he opened the door was a bad nightmare.
When he sees a telephone booth, he would call the police so that they should come before it gets dark. It was unfortunate but Milo truly did not want to have any brush with the police.
He passed the cabin, not even waiting to take a stop until he reached the pick-up trunk.
“Is this the car you used to bring me here?”
The keys in Milo’s hand slipped and fell to the ground, and he turned like one who had seen a ghost.
“You, you were following me.”
He had not heard anything; he had been so focused on himself to pay attention to anything else. But now did the man jump out of the grave so easily.
His eyes traced over the man’s body. He was definitely athletic; he was standing a bit too close but Milo moved back. Now the man was awake, the light brown eyes made his face even more otherworldly. It was like there was a mini sun embedded in his orbs.
“0f course, you tried to bury me.” The man said sternly and Milo could feel goosebumps run down his spine. When he was sleeping, he looked like a fallen angel but awake, those beautiful features settled into a stern countenance.
He coughed, “Bury you?” Instantly, his expression changed to one of concern and he stepped forward, green eyes filled with worry, “Sir, are you okay. Are you sure you did not hit your head somewhere? Should I call someone for you?”
He could not tell anything from the man’s gaze.
“Are you denying it?”
“Denying what.” Milo blinked innocently. Seeing that it did not work, he changed tactic, looking more like a responsible college student, “When I saw you lying down there, I thought that someone had dug up a grave so I wanted to cover the grave back. If I knew you were awake, I would have called the hospital or something. And then you woke up, it scared me so I ran.” He saw the shocked expression on the man’s face and his lips curled for a second, “Why did you dig a hole and lay down in it? Are you a writer or a modern artist?”
“Writer? Modern Artist?” The man looked even more confused before sighing and muttering something that sounded like, ‘Humans.’
The man looked at Milo from top to bottom, his eyes were piercing and Milo forced himself not to squirm.
“I would not bother with you anymore. I just need to find my priest.” He started walking forward.
Priest? Was he a Catholic? Didn’t they always preach forgiveness and love?
“Yes. Yes. Seeing a priest is important.” Milo nodded his head like a rattle drum, “Goodbye.”
The man paused and turned to look at him, “You would drive me.”
Even the flattering smile that Milo was focusing himself to keep could not hold on when he heard the barely disused command.
“I have to go somewhere.”
“Oh!” The man’s lips moved to the side, “Then you don’t mind me calling the police.” He reached his hand in his pocket and Milo relented at once.
“You know, let me just take you. The forest is dark and it can be very dangerous.”
“Is that so?”
Milo gritted his teeth but knowing that he was in the wrong, he forced a smile, “Yes.”
Milo entered the pick-up truck and seeing that the man had not moved, he almost had a mind to zoom off, he forced that thought down, and opened the door for him.
The man gave the worn seat a glance but still sat down. His back was straight and it reminded Milo of those movies featuring soldiers.
The ride was quiet, both the buried and the buried had no desire to speak to each other. Milo accelerated and held the steering carefully as he drove out of the forest. By the time he reached the federal road, it was already a few minutes after 6 pm.
He had not eaten; he was so hungry.
He turned to the man who had been sitting so silently, one would think he was dead.
“Which church?”
He turned to look at Milo, “Church?”
“You said you wanted to go see a priest?”
“Yes.”
“Then which church?”
The man stared at him. Another frightening thought came to Milo. Could it be that this man is mentally insane?
Should he call the Lux Psychiatrist hospital?
- Writer
