A.C. McAnelly

I had no better word for it.

It was like his body had lost its form, like how water keeps the shape of the cup it's in, but once it's spilled, it runs all over.

That's what was slowly happening to Morgan.

His voice became a wet gargle as his body slowly slid apart, becoming gelatinous.

No muscle, blood, or bones.

Instead, he faded into liquid and disappeared, leaving only a dark spot in the sand.

And even that disappeared as the water came in again and washed over it, leaving no trace of Morgan.

I shook my head and started crying.

It couldn't be real.

I heard someone from the group on the cliff call down to me, asking if everything was okay.

I ignored them and ran.

I ran off the beach and hit the road, and I didn't stop.

I ran back to the hut, tears cooling my cheeks as my eyes burned from all the crying and the wind fighting against me.

The coldness in my arm was almost gone.

If what happened was real, then my touch did it.

God.

I killed Morgan.

God!

She came out of her bedroom.

What's happened?