As the sun began to rise over the mountain, she stared at the blood covering her hands and wondered what had just happened. Her dog pushed into her side, nose slipping by her face. She tried to get to her feet, but her knees weren’t bending as she wanted.
She checked them. They were fine, they weren’t broken. She just couldn’t bend them to get up.
The dog pushed into her again. The girl tried to push him away. “No.” Where had this blood come from? She couldn’t remember.
She wiped her hands off on her jeans. They looked like she would have to get new ones. Her mother had always told her the ripped jean look was dumb anyway.
Her dog grabbed her, mouth on her arm. “Ow! What are you doing? Stop!”
The dog didn’t stop. He started to pull her. She tried to protest, but she couldn’t. He was strong and she couldn’t get up.
As she began to pass out from the blood loss, the dog dragged her past the corpse of her captor.
Almost all of her class had died that night. It wasn’t very fair, but no one cared about that part of the entire thing. The tragedy couldn’t be explained by anything else. It wasn’t as though prom had been interrupted by a shooter. The state all of the bodies had been left in were nothing that could be described. Except maybe by saying some wild animal had shown up and ripped everyone apart.
Carine didn’t remember any of it. Except for the girl she had been dancing with. She didn’t recall her from any classes or anything like that. Maybe she had seen her around, maybe not. Her class was huge, after all. It seemed strange she wouldn’t have had a single class with her the entire year though. Her entire high school career.
Which now seemed to be put on hold. Carine wasn’t the only survivor. Nor the only one to somehow walk home without any memory of what had happened. She was in the hospital now, her father hovering around outside, as she was checked. Physically, she was fine. That didn’t make sense. One of the few things Carine could remember was that some of the blood on her dress had been hers.
Her dress. Where was it? It hadn’t been in her room. But she had changed into her pajamas. She couldn’t remember.
She thought about the girl she had danced with, with the black afro and the large earrings which hadn’t matched her dress. She was beautiful. Carine would have remembered her. Carine should have remembered her. She was dead now.
Carine rubbed her eyes.
She had left everything to Zamir. He didn’t want it.
“This is wonderful, his mother would say. “She loved you so much.”
There was the stipulation. He couldn’t give a single piece of it to Shachaf. Their mother didn’t seem to notice. Zamir ground his teeth. And kept his discontentment to himself. There was no hiding this now.
“Am I an idiot?” Shachaf sat on Zamir’s balcony. Zamir filled up another glass.
“Yes, but that’s besides the point. We stem from idiotic stock.”
Shachaf rubbed his face. “There’s a lot you could do with that inheritance.”
Zamir couldn’t be more irritated. Neither of them cared about the money. They both knew that. “I have a job. I don’t need it.” He wasn’t going to make the choice against his brother.
“True. You aren’t hurting for it.”
That wasn’t the point. That wasn’t it at all. Zamir shook his head and sat down across from him.