Fly

Written by my sister for the game Fire Starter–Writing Promt #1

 

Water laps against the walls of the clear, plastic bottle. I shake it again. The fly is intact, dead, but still in one piece.

I screw off the lid and push my eye to the opening. I hope my body will float when I die. I screw the lid back on and shake it harder, determined to make the fly even more dead than it already is.

I had to kill something. I would have rather killed the boy who lived down the road, but that would get me in trouble. Nobody would stop me from killing this fly.

I unscrew the lid again and dump the water out onto the ground, the fly gushing out with it. It is definitely dead, but maybe not dead enough.

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