Colin Galbraith Author (Official Website)


Greener is the Grass by Colin Galbraith

Greener is the Grass

Excerpt

“Stop the riddles and just tell me what you’re talking about.”

“What day is it?” said Kyle.

“Saturday,” said Matt. “It’s Saturday because I was at a party just last night.”

“Jesus Christ, mate. It’s Monday afternoon. You’ve been AWOL since Friday night and so has Damian. You wake up in a bath today all freaked out and wet, but where the hell is he? What the fuck have you two gone and done now?”

The reality began to seep into Matt’s dazed mind. “I don’t understand any of this,” he said, and turned to sit down on one of the chairs. He was beginning to feel sick again and needed to get to ground and close his eyes for a moment. “I just don’t understand.”

“What’s that on your shirt?” said Kyle.

“Where?”

“On the back of your shirt. It looks like blood. Are you bleeding? You’re bleeding all down your back, mate.”

“I don’t think so,” said Matt. “There was some blood in the bath but it was from my sick.” He tried to twist round but the burning in his back was too much.

He reversed up to the mirror and sure enough, the back of his t-shirt had a large patch of blood oozing through the material.

“Take your top off,” said Kyle, holding his arms out to help him.

“Why?”

“Just take it off,” said Kyle, and helped Matt remove his shirt.

Matt looked at Kyle’s face in the mirror. He looked as though he was hoping to find an easy answer but only managing to display the paleness that deep worry can bring. Suddenly, his blank gaze was replaced by a horrified stare.

“What is it?” demanded Matt. “What d'you see? Am I cut? Have I been stabbed?”

“You better look for yourself,” said Kyle, and picked up a small face mirror from the table and held it in front of him so he could see the reflection.

Matt angled his head and stared at what he saw: a swollen ten-inch scar on his lower back held together by a series of crude black stitching. Blood seeped from the wound, the area immediately surrounding it heavily bruised. He began to shake.

“Matt,” said Kyle, and held out his hands. “Matt!”

Matt’s legs gave way and he landed hard on the wood panelled floor. In the distance he could hear Kyle shouting for him, but the blackness enveloped him quickly, and soon he was gone.