I’m laying face down in the wet grass. In the distance, I can hear them laughing.
I know I should get up. Shake it off and laugh about it for a while.
But I don’t want to.
I want to lie here and forget about them. Forget about the humiliation of what I had just done.
I have to get up.
But I want to stay here, in the wet grass, for a little longer.
I can hear some of them saying that they should check on me. That I might have hurt myself since I’m not moving.
I’m not hurt.
I don’t want to stand up.
I want to stay here. And forget about everything for a little while longer.
Finally, I gather the courage to stand. I look back at my friends, all standing in a circle around the fire.
All of them laughing and pointing at me.
I decide not to go back.
I don’t want to face them.
I don’t want to face the humiliation they have prepared for me.
So I turn and leave.
And I don’t look back.
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Categories: flash fiction