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My Friend Has a Dead Body
My friend has a dead body hidden in a chest. I found it this morning, and I don’t know who to tell. For starters, I wasn’t supposed to find it at all. He told me that the chest was full of his father’s old things. As I woke up this morning, I thought I was going to Albert’s house for coffee and a decent conversation, but I ended up wishing I never had gone there in the first place. As Albert was making us some breakfast, he suggested I look for some whiskey to spike up our cups of coffee. I first went to Albert’s bar but couldn’t find the whiskey, so I decided to go down to the cellar where I knew he kept extra bottles. How I wish I hadn’t gone down there. As I went down the stairs toward the cellar, I started to look around, but didn’t see many bottles. I only saw old gym equipment, some clothes, and a large, wooden chest that seemed out of place. “Is everything alright down there?” I heard Albert shout from the kitchen. “Did you find the whiskey?” I couldn’t take my eyes off the chest. “Um, not really, but what about the chest? Are there any bottles in there?” Albert answered almost immediately, and I could sense some nervousness in his voice. “No! That chest is filled with my father’s old stuff. That’s everything I have left of him. Please don’t touch it.” His answer sparked some curiosity in me, and I knew the chest had something else inside. However, I went up the stairs and told Albert I couldn’t find anything. He told me he would go to the store to buy some whiskey, and that I should sit down and make myself comfortable. He served me some eggs and left. I sat in Albert’s kitchen for a few minutes, still thinking about the chest in his cellar. After I finished my breakfast, the curiosity got the best of me and I decided to go down the stairs. Again, how I wish I hadn’t gone down there. I slowly made my way toward the wooden box, and stopped to think about what I was doing. Was I just bored and making things up? However, I was already there. One quick look and I would be on my way upstairs. I carefully opened the chest, and how I wish I hadn’t. To my surprise, I didn’t find any old photos, clothes, or baseball trophies. Instead, I was staring directly into a dead man’s eyes. It was in that moment I realized there was nothing decent about Albert. Startled and out of breath, I ran upstairs and out his front door as fast as I could, without looking back. Here I am, running, and I still don’t know who to tell.
