Olivia Brown WoB Short Story Contest Entry 11/11/2025
The girl in every face Roman Mottet hadn’t meant to kill Elyse Robinson. He’d followed her home after the bar. She’d smiled at him that night. Kind, distracted, maybe a little drunk. That was enough. He told himself he just wanted to talk, to explain how people like her always thought they could ignore people like him. But when she turned and said, “Leave me alone.” Something broke. He didn’t remember the knife, or the screaming. Just the sound of her body hitting the ground, the wet warmth of her blood on his hands. He buried her that night, in the woods, behind the old quarry. The ground there swallowed everything. Afterward he told himself it was done. Over. He could move on. But she didn’t stay gone. The first time he saw her again was two weeks later, in line at a gas station. She was standing by the counter, buying some sour patch kids. Same dark hair. Same gray sweater. Elyse Robinson. Roman froze, the coffee in his hand trembling. Her head turned just slightly, and she smiled. “I know you know who I am. Why did you do it? I was innocent. Why?” she said. The world fell silent. His pulse roared in his ears. When he blinked she was closer, too close, whispering the same words, her breath hot against his neck. He didn’t remember following her into the parking lot. Didn’t remember grabbing the tire iron. When he came back to himself, she was on the ground, her skull cracked open against the asphalt. He dragged her to the woods. The same woods behind the old quarry. The same grave. The dirt felt soft, as if it had been waiting for him. “Stay gone this time.” he whispered as he covered her. But she didn’t. A month later, at a grocery store, he saw her again. This time her hair was shorter, but it was her. He knew those eyes. Those lips. That voice. “I know you know who I am. I was just trying to get home. I was innocent.” He dropped the basket, shaking his head, “No. You’re dead. I buried you.” The other shoppers turned, startled, but none of them looked at her. None of them seemed to see her at all. Elyse laughed, “You can bury me a hundred times, Roman, you still know who I am.” He lunged before he realized what he was doing. When he woke up, he was back in the woods behind the old quarry. The dirt was fresh again. His hands were raw, caked with blood and