The Girl Who Couldn't Stop Dying by Lauren Street

Author:Lauren Street [Street, Lauren]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sterling & Stone
Published: 2024-05-14T00:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-SIX

Beth

Beth woke up on the kitchen floor.

She was sticky again, but the coppery smell hitting her nostrils wasn’t sweat.

Beth looked down and saw that her hands were covered in blood, the horror and clenching panic inspired by the sight was raw and immediate.

Human nature itself was scraping against both her nerves and her psyche. She frantically surveyed her body but noted no wounds.

What have I done?

She thought it over and over while trying to make sense of what she was seeing. She kept flashing on a series of strobing images, but she had no way of knowing whether they were frames from a memory, or from one of her innumerable nightmares.

The figure that had invaded her kitchen wore the same face as that monster drifting out of the woods. Neither could be real.

No. No. No. Beth stood from the floor, wildly shaking her head, wondering where the scissor blades and the blood could have possibly come from.

Blood on her hands and all over the floor.

There had to be a logical explanation, and she needed to know what it was. She also needed to clean up all of this mess, starting with herself.

Maybe she was being framed for murder.

That was just the first of a hundred awful possibilities to assault her as she showered, dressed in fresh clothes while stuffing her sweat-soaked and bloody pajamas into a 32-gallon plastic bag that she would dispose of later — after filling it with the evidence she was about to make downstairs.

She scrubbed down her kitchen, freaking out but not totally losing her shit, stuffing all of the towels and cleaning supplies into that same bag when she finished, just in case.

The bag was a hot potato, and she had no idea what to do with it. The attic might have been a good place, but then Beth would have had to look at her father’s treasure trove of horrors. So she put the bag under her bed, in the only place that felt safe.

She picked up her phone from the nightstand. It was dead, but that didn’t even matter. Beth realized as she looked down at the blank screen that she had no idea what she would even say.

Hey there, Sam. Can you please call me back? I woke up with blood everywhere — don’t worry, that’s not the problem. I’m just not sure where to bury the evidence.

Maybe she should bury it.

Except the cops could probably tell if the dirt in her backyard had been recently unearthed.

She plugged in the phone to charge while considering all the infinite areas in and around Rush where one could easily bury a large plastic bag and leave the site with every confidence that the bag would stay buried there.

She surprised herself with an inappropriate laugh while thinking that Rip surely had at least a hundred such places.

Maybe—

A sharp single knock on the front door, followed by three insistent raps.

She started toward the stairs, grateful that her kitchen was clean and her body freshly scrubbed.

Unless that made her too obvious.

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