After the screaming had stopped he drifted back to reality. He was standing over Carol’s motionless form. What he felt staring down at her wasn’t remorse or guilt, it was a kind of relief, as if her death had ever so slightly freed him from his mother’s grasp. He nudged her with his boot; cold dead eyes stared back at him. His insides twisted up and ran outside to throw up. What had he done?
Carefully he wrapped the body in a sheet from the bed and carried it back to the car. The sky had turned dark from the oncoming storm. Relief may have been the first emotion to race through his twisted mind, but fear was the second.
A quick trip to the river and it would all be over, he reassured himself, or would it be? He sat in the front seat, sweat beading on his brow, clammy hands clutching the wheel. He headed for the river, secure the darkness would hide him and the coming rains would erase any evidence left behind.
A few miles from the shack was the perfect place to get rid of his guilt. The rivers swift moving current would carry it far down stream and far from him. He drove through the area several times making certain it was clear for the unspeakable thing he was about to do. Nervously, he removed the body from the sheet and carried it to the water’s edge. He pushed it out until the current grabbed it and sent it on its way downstream. He breathed a sigh of relief and headed back to the car. He would burn the sheet and give the car a thorough cleaning. There were only a few shallow boot prints and those would soon be destroyed by the winds and the rain. When the sky opened up, he stood there briefly letting the cold rain wash away his sin.