Liars

I found the camera the same day. He took pictures of everyone he killed. He took pictures of what he used. He took pictures where he found them. He took pictures of what they were carrying and what they dropped.

He took pictures of everything.

I thought it was disgusting. I pointed it out to him and he told me it was for the police when we left. I believed him.

The next week I helped him take down each counselor; one by one. My first was the hardest. I almost couldn’t do it. The axe seemed so heavy and he seemed so tall, but I did it. I hit him so many times his face wasn’t recognizable anymore.

When I was done, I did what I was told. I took a picture of his body and then I dragged him to the cliff. I did the same with all my other friends.

I felt horrible that night. The adrenaline rush evaporated and I couldn’t stop crying.

I was a murderer. I was a dirty, rotten murderer.