Grant Butler

Snow, much like blood, never lies.

“She who has wronged you will reap what she sowed.”

I didn’t recognize the location or the other people in the shot, but there was no mistaking the man I saw peering at the group from far off in the background.

But this was different. I don’t think I have ever felt so small before. Whatever this was, it wasn’t good.

I saw something below the post on how to dispose of a body and scrolled down to look at it.

He flipped on the lights as we took a look inside. At first, it looked to be a perfectly ordinary unit. A lot of whitewashed out cement walls and everything. A light bulb or two hanging overhead. Tons of room for stuff.

My dad is having a hard time coping with his wife’s murder.

But the body isn’t the only part of a person that can become diseased. The ravings, screaming fits, and the general insanity, I don’t know if you can ever completely get used to.

I know you hated that thing Cody. But believe me my boy, there are far worse things out there than crows or straw men.

When it was about 2 pm, I texted her asking for when I should pick her up at school as we decided. No answer. Time began to trickle by, every moment felt drawn out.

We were over halfway through the exercise when Hunter began to give his report. He went through his Mom’s job, everything was normal, nothing out of the ordinary there. But then he started talking about his Dad.