Guilt

It knows.

It knows what I did. I didn't mean to hurt her, and I didn't think anyone would find out, but it knows and now it’s here and there isn't a damn thing I can do about it.
I can hear it scratching at the door. I can smell it’s sulfur stink from across my bedroom. I can feel the dread clutching at my heart like a vise. It knows.

We were at the park, alone together. Just she and I and the stars. She said no, but I didn't listen. She screamed and I hit her and she fell and there were rocks and there was blood and she stopped screaming but I didn't stop.
I buried her deep, far out where no one would find her. The police came, I cried and told them I didn't know and they believed me.

It doesn't believe me. It knows what I did. It knows and now it’s here and now I have to pay.

My heart stops in my chest at the same moment the sound of its claws dragging on the door stop, and starts again suddenly when I hear it breathing, feel the hot air on the back of my neck. It’s here.

It knows.