The Bottom ( any gender, mid teens to mid twenties )
Shelly, I can't do the garbage after dinner tonight. I'm not wussing out... well I guess I am but not in the way you think, Shelly.
Look I go to the dumpster all the time, right? Every evening activity, the art department is left with props that can't be stored, can't be recycled, so I go to the dumpster. But the last three nights there's been... I heard something in the dumpster, not a critter but...
People chatting and laughing. Like when you're outside the staff building and the sound of people gets louder as you get closer to the door? I'm hearing human voices at the dumpster and they're getting louder when I lean in closer... it sounds like it's coming from the bottom, underneath all the garbage.
And it's not coming from anywhere else in camp, Shelly. I'm not stupid, I already thought of that. I looked around-- nobody for, like thirty yards, just me there. Plus... I don't recognize these voices. Except one. And... Shelly it sounds like Devon.
No-- Shelly, I know that sounds terrible with all that's happened and it WOULD be terrible if I were messing with you and I haven't been very nice to you this summer and I'm sorry but you know how I felt- God-- how I FEEL about Devon.
I wouldn't tell you this unless I were telling the truth.
I almost want you to go find out yourself but I want to be nicer to you. Let's get one of the taller campers to do the garbage, please. I don't think their relationship with Devon was as... as complicated.
Copyright 2016 by Matt Haynes.
If you would like to use this piece, please credit: "Courtesy of Matt Haynes and The Pulp Stage"