Postmortem

The refined wooden rifle was lifted into the air. The cocking of the weapon sounded; quiet enough to not alert the pray. It stood in the middle of a small clearing, drinking from shallow pools of icy water. The evening sun beamed onto its silky fur, illuminating for all to see. I wanted to stare at it forever.

With quick thinking, I reached into my hunting bag, grabbing my well-aged camera. Looking towards the figure crouched next to me, "May I?" I whispered, gesturing with the item.

I was met with a stern look, to which I countered with my puppy dog face. Evidently in the end, I came out as the sole victor.

"Get ready to fire." I whispered. Raising the lens to my eye, I aimed for the perfect shot. My finger slowly pushed in.

The shutter echoed, instantly disturbing the peaceful forest. The unfamiliar sound startled the elk as it whipped its head towards our direction, only to be met with the sound of a bang.

Birds scattered from the trees around us.

I watched as the paper film was extracted from the camera. Pulling it out, I waved the finished product back and forth in the air before returning both items back into the bag.

I looked up to see my hunting partner already approaching the carcass. Swiftly grabbing my bag, I jogged towards the scene; snow crunching under my feet with each step.

"Nice shot." I said, looking into the face of the elk, noticing how the bullet went straight into the eye.

"Thank you, young man." They responded in a gruff voice, to which I gave a toothy grin.

It wasn't surprising. My father, Harry Clearwater, has been hunting since he was my age, so all these years of practice had to be worth something.

Minutes passed as my father and I dragged the carcass back to the old pickup truck. After lifting the large beast into the back, I went around to the passenger's side, hopping in and settling down before opening my bag to retrieve the photo.

The shot came out perfectly. It didn't of course compare to seeing it in person, but it was as perfect as a picture could get.

My father stepped into the driver's seat and revved the engine to life. Soon we were on the road back home.

Leaning on the rolled down window, the cool winter breeze seeped in through, gently brushing against my face as I breathed in the sweet scent of the forest.

The moment was perfect.

I glanced towards my father; the content look written on his face seemed to agree.

The truck soon turned in to the driveway of our home. I stepped out and headed around to the back to give my father a hand with the big catch, half carrying – half dragging it back into the garage.

Placing it down on a table, my father then got out his tools.

"You need any help…?" I hesitantly asked, to which he laughed at the request.

My father of all people knew I was disgusted by animals being skinned. "No, no, don't worry. You missed dinner and your mother saved a plate that's hot and ready to eat." He dismissed, and without question I quickly fled into the house.

The dinner my mother had cooked - Fried fish along with corn and rice – had been absolutely delicious. So much so that I almost regretted going hunting with my father, as I wanted the leftovers that my mother tragically sent over to the neighbours.

After the meal, I trotted to the bathroom to take a well needed shower. Feeling the steamy water beat off my back made this peaceful day all the more comforting.

I remained there for a good thirty minutes before there was banging on the door.

"Seth, hurry the hell up!" A voice called from the other side.

It was my sister, Leah. My only sibling. At twenty-two, usually someone would have the basis of their life planned out, and for Leah that was partially true. That is up until a month ago when her soon-to-be husband left her for our second cousin, which practically crushed her. She moved all of her things out of her ex-fiancé, Sam's, and was forced to move back in with us.

"God, I can't believe I'm living with him again." She said; her voice thick with annoyance, which only made me crack a smile.

I heard my mother's faint voice speak up, "Well you're both mature, grown people now so I'm sure you can both work this out and-"

"Get out you doofus!" Leah shouted; interrupting mom as she repeatedly banged on the door.

I quickly dried myself off and put on a pair of fresh clothes. Stepping out of the bathroom I caught Leah leaning against the wall, her face full of loathe, to which I stared directly at her and gave the goofiest grin possible.

"You better have cleaned up your mess." She huffed, pushing her way past.

"Of course, your majesty." I responded, to which I did a gracious bow; laughing as I retreated back to my room.

Sitting on my blue-plaid bed, I reached over to retrieve my bag, taking out the camera and picture yet again. Sighing as my back hit the bed, I stared at the photograph in front of me. It truly was the perfect shot, and I'm sure my photography teacher will agree.

I was grateful that I was now able to really exceed in something I love.

About a year ago, La Push was hit by a minor storm, and while most came out okay, people closer to the ocean got hit pretty hard. The Quileute Tribal School was one of the few buildings that got the roof completely blown off. Since then, all the students on the reservation were relocated to the Forks school system until further notice.

Most complained about the inconvenience, but I couldn't wait. Forks High School had over hundreds of programs that you can get involved in – a ton more in comparison to ours. All in all, for me it was a positive change.

Minus the thirty minute drive.

The remainder of the night I spent on my computer, searching up answers for overdue homework I still had yet to finish for tomorrows class. As the night dragged on, the heavier my eyelids became.

The morning quickly arrived, and I woke up to myself sitting at my desk, drooling like an idiot.

I groaned; stretching my stiff back at I looked over at my alarm clock.

6:59am.

Sluggishly, standing up from the chair, I headed towards the closet. I picked out a good pair of black jeans along with a grey shirt and sweater. Changing out of my pyjamas, the cool morning air hit my skin, making me shiver to the bone.

Afterwards, I gathered my things; put the finished homework in my bag and headed downstairs.

The smell of fresh bacon and eggs met my nose. I breathed it in with delight as I strolled into the kitchen. My mother stood in front of the stove flipping eggs, while my father sat at the table reading the local newspaper.

"Good morning to you both." I said cheerfully, to which they both replied in a sleepy tone. Walking over to sit down at the table, I noticed one of my father's old Quileute books lying on the table.

I always found those books to be interesting - Bizarre in a sense, but interesting nonetheless. Written in them were tales of the spirit warriors; Quileute people who could release their spirits from their bodies, to which they could not physically fight off danger, but instead blow fierce winds and manipulate animals. It all sounded like something from a superhero book - only with less pale faces.

Mom walked over to the table, two plates in hand, and placed them in front of Dad and me. We both said our thanks; giving generous smiles before eagerly digging in.

After breakfast I went to retrieve a jacket; deciding to put on my heavy green winter coat. Snatching my keys off the key rack and announcing my leaving to my parents, I headed out the door.

The chilly morning alerted my senses; my warm breath visible in the air. As I opened the door to the old truck, I tossed my bag in the passenger seat and hopped in.

As I turned the keys, the engine revved for a good few seconds before finally starting. Turning the heat on bust, I then got some mittens out of the glove compartment. Sighing as I slipped them on, I could already feel my hands warm up. I still had a few minutes before I had to be on the road so I fooled around with my camera for the remainder.

Driving on icy roads was definitely something I didn't enjoy, but it beat having to sit on a freezing bus for thirty minutes. Especially since instead of listening to constant chatter, I could instead be listening to music from the stereo. It was relaxing. I don't usually get much time to myself, so this part of the morning was something I look forward too.

The road was peaceful today. It seemed that I got ahead of the traffic, as there were no cars in sight.

But there was a person.

My brows furrowed as I squinted my eyes. In the distance I spotted them. They were on the side of the road, just staring off into the woods.

For a split second I blinked, and they disappeared.

My hands tremored for a second, causing me to slightly go off the road, to which I quickly adjusted back. I felt my heart speed up.

"What the hell was that…?" My voice was barely audible.

I saw movement in the woods. There was something large, moving fast through the trees. The thumping could be heard over the stereo.

That's when it sprung – Jumping onto the road.

Instantly my foot slammed on the break, causing my body to fling forward into the wheel – the seatbelt luckily holding me back from flying through the windshield. I gasped for air as my frightened eyes look ahead.

The beast seemed to also get a fright, as it stood frozen in the middle of the road, standing five feet from the truck and staring directly at me.

Without thinking, my hand shot over to the passenger-side seat and snatched my camera. The beast quickly reacted as went to sprint across the rest of the road. Looking into the lens I traced its movement. As I was about to lose sight of it, I clicked the shutter button.

Seconds of dead silence passed as I stared into the woods. The camera indicated it was printing the picture as I heard its mechanical sound. Wide-eyed, I watched as the white film come out. Hesitantly, I grabbed the paper, quickly shaking it, trying to get it to process as fast as possible.

More seconds passed, until finally I took in the picture in front of me.

It seemed that I only caught the rear side of the beast as it was running into the forest. Scanning every detail, I saw how much it seemed to resemble some sort of dog - minus the fact that it's at least ten times larger. Its fur was pure black.

It felt haunting to look at.

I heard a vehicle coming up behind me, so I quickly tossed the picture aside and started driving.

The different emotions going through my head made me feel excruciatingly anxious. The truck was blazing with heat and my hands were on fire from the mittens, yet my whole body was shaking.

The rest of the ride I tried to calm myself so I didn't look like a complete wreck during school.

Driving through Forks, I soon turned up a hill, the truck slowly advancing as the high school came within sight. I looked in my rear-view mirror; my face looked slightly pale, but other than that I looked fine.

After taking a parking spot, I turned off the truck and waited for a moment; taking a deep breath before putting away the gloves and gathering up my things.

Stepping out of the truck, I slammed the door shut and started to advance towards my first class.

I heard yelling, to which I looked across the lot to see some of the football team on the field practicing.

"How crazy would you have to be…?" I silently said to myself; chuckling at the sight of it all. It was forty-one degrees out yet they were sprinting around in their gear like it was summer.

I walked towards the scene, stopping by the bleachers to take it all in. There were shouts and laughs as they tackled each other into the piles of snow.

"Hey!" A voice called. Looking towards the other side of the field, I saw a figure starting to approach.

Paul Lahote.

The most cocky, arrogant, asshole I've ever known in my entire life.

He was also my best friend.

I cracked a smile as he jogged up to me.

"You know," I started, "usually most people I know wouldn't be so happy-cheery knowing they were going to get hypothermia."

Paul gave a big hearted laugh. "The teams trying to get in as much practice as possible before the spring comes. Coach wasn't too thrilled about it, but she'll come around when she realizes just how much this'll help us."

"Help you get better or help put you in a hospital?" I asked; which only made him further laugh. He then stepped in close, putting his face inches away from mine.

"I'll put you in a hospital, Clearwater." He warned, his cocky smirk plastered on his face.

I gave him a grin before flicking his nose with my finger.

"I'd like to see you try, Lahote." I challenged. "Sadly though, I've got to get to class, so we're going to have to schedule our smack down for some other time."

Thinking back to my schedule, I had photography class first.

I instantly thought back to the picture.

"Oh by the way…" I spoke up, reaching into my bag. "Want to see what almost totalled my truck today?"

Paul's face turned sour. "What do you mean?" His voice hinted with worry.

I pulled out the photo, passing it over to him. His worried face grew hard.

"Holy shit… It's huge." He breathed. He then looked up to me. "Are you okay? Did you get hurt at all?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." I brushed him off. "My chest still hurts a bit from slamming into the wheel but other than that I'm okay."

"Okay well let's get you to the nurse's office then." He spoke, slinging his arm around my shoulder and started guiding me.

"P-Paul really, I'm fine." I said, pushing back on his chest. "It's really not that bad. Besides, I don't want to interrupt you're practice."

He paused, turning to me; a sincere look written across his face. "Seth, you're worth missing practice for."

I paused; surprised to hear such a comment. "Aw…" I smiled sweetly, "Look at you getting all sappy for me." I said as I jokingly knocking his chin with my hand. My face turned serious. "Save it for your girlfriend."

We both stared at each other for a moment before I put on a big grin.

Paul sighed at this. "Well okay, but let me know if anything gets worse," He then pointed a finger at me, "promise?"

"Aye-aye, captain!" I said; casually saluting him. I laughed as an even bigger sigh left his mouth.

Sadly, photography class didn't go by fast enough. Not all days were like this though. Usually I would enjoy a straight hour of learning facts about the history of how it came to be, but today the teacher, Ms. Cherny, thought it would be interesting to tell the class about how back in the early nineteenth-century, when cameras used the Daguerreian process, people would have to sit still for hours in order to get their picture taken.

But that wasn't the unbearable part.

What bothered me was learning about postmortem photography. The process of taking pictures of or with deceased loved ones to remember them. While I understood why someone would do this, it was still discomforting.

What made things worse was that Ms. Cherny then insisted that we look at some photographic examples. What shocked me was how almost everyone in the class seemed to enjoy it all.

Besides me, the only other person who didn't seem to have a tolerance for this sort of thing was Angela Weber, as I spotted her squirming in her seat; her eyes constantly glancing up at the screen only to rapidly look away.

As the bell rang, I swung my bag around my shoulder and swiftly exited the room; getting away from that class as quick as possible.

My next period was pre-calculus. Being an advanced maths student was surprisingly easy to say the least. Usually, most junior students wouldn't be caught dead taking an all senior class - as if sitting in a room full of seniors alone wasn't intimidating enough, you'd also have the enormous pressure of taking a course a year above your skill level. Luckily my skills in the subject we're exceedingly good. On top of that, having Paul in the class with me made everything all the more easy. There were definitely perks to having a best friend who was a senior.

Walking into the classroom, I took a seat at my usual desk – One that I shared with Paul. I breathed in as I slowly rubbed my face, trying to get the disturbing memories of the class before out of my mind.

The chair next to me rattled, and as I looked over, there sat Paul. His intimidatingly large frame practically towered over me.

In the past month, Paul has probably put on twenty pounds of muscle - Something that should practically be impossible for a high school boy.

Leaning over, I whispered; "You better hope they don't find those anabolic steroids, or else you're going to get kicked off the team."

A grin stretched over his face as he stared down at me. "Hey, don't underestimate my workout routine. I've been training real hard as of late." He proudly said, sticking his chin up high as he flexed his bicep. I rolled my eyes in response.

"Easy there, Schwarzenegger, it was just a warning." I said, unimpressed, to which I gave a snarky grin, "But you do know that whatever you gain up here," I pointed to his arms, "You're going to lose down there." I finished, as my finger shifted downwards.

Paul gave a pout.

The period continued with Paul explaining in agonizing detail on what kind of "routines" he started doing that made such a drastic effect, and every second I tired concentrating on math while regretting that I brought the topic up.

The day was quick to go by. Before I realised it, I was walking into the lunch room; purchasing a greasy looking pizza for myself. I walked over, taking a seat next to Paul and his friend. Emphasis on his friend, as Paul was the only reason they made conversation with me.

Jared Cameron was that person. He was a football teammate of Paul's. Overall he was an alright guy.

Lately though he's been missing quite a bit of school, and every day he actually shows up he gets an earful from Paul, and it looks like it takes every fibre of his being to not explode onto Paul in the process. Luckily though, Paul wasn't in the mood to argue with him today, and instead they had casual chitchat.

"Hey, babe." A voice sounded from behind. Turning, I spotted Rachel Black leaning over Paul's shoulder. Paul suddenly turned his head, kissing her.

"Hey." His voice was a whisper, his eyes turning hazy.

A gaging noise reached my ears.

I looked over to see Jared imitating like he was about to hurl from seeing the sudden display of affection. I laughed at this, but Paul didn't seem to find it funny as he gave Jared a glare.

"Anyways," Rachel said with a smile on her face, "I just wanted to let you know that I'm leaving early to go to Port Angeles with Kim."

The sounding of Kim's name seemed to catch Jared's attention as you could visually see his ears perk up.

"Oh, okay." Paul whispered, leaning in to kiss her again.

They said their farewells, before Rachel took off through the cafeteria doors.

Paul then turned to me. "Oh, by the way Seth, Rachel was my ride here and since she just left, it looks like you're going to be my ride home."

I sighed. "That's fine I guess."

"Of course…" Paul trailed off, rubbing the back of his head.

"What…?" I asked.

"Well, the thing is, I have football practice so-"

"Absolutely not." My voice came out swift and steady.

"Oh please, Seth!" He begged as he attempted to give me what looked to be a puppy face.

"Why can't you get a ride with Jared?" I asked as I looked towards the man sitting across from us. Paul only gave the man another glare.

"Jared's not going to be at practice - Again." He huffed.

I looked towards Jared, only for him to simply turn away from us. Looking back, Paul was still trying to make an awkward attempt at the puppy face.

I let out a long breath. "Fine – But only if you promise to never make that expression again." I said, pointing a finger at him, to which he graciously accepted.

Finishing up lunch, Paul generously took my garbage to bring over to the trash.

As I picked up my bag, I heard a cluster of things hit the floor.

I looked up to see Paul standing there, all of the garbage he was carrying now on the ground, and a guy – who was probably no taller than me – sprawled out on the floor.

It had seemed that the smaller guy accidently bumped into Paul, causing an accident that seemed minimal.

But the look on Paul's face described another story.

Paul stood there, wide-eyed with his top lip curled behind his teeth. His fists were clenched as he was practically shaking from anger.

The boy quickly stood up. "I'm so sorry, that was my fault-"

"Watch where you're going, you dumbass!" Paul roared.

I flinched.

The whole cafeteria seemed to turn their attention to the scene.

The boy stood there, eyes wide in shock. "I-I'm sorry, it was an a-accident-"

"Bullshit!" Paul cut him off again. He was fuming.

The boy stood there, frozen.

Before even realizing it, I was approaching Paul. As he was about to shout more words, I gently grabbed his arm. Paul's head whipped towards me, hostility written all over.

I simply stared at him, my eyes wide. It took him a second to realize who grabbed him, but as he realized it was me, his face slowly began to soften. We stared at each other for a few seconds, before I spoke up.

"Paul…?" I whispered.

His face remained wide-eyed, but no longer hostile. Instead he looked frightened. He slowly turned back to the boy, as his head hung low.

"Sorry…" he mumbled, before quickly breaking loose from my grasp and walking out the cafeteria – everyone's eyes following him until he was out of sight.

I was left standing there; my hand burning from the heat…?

A few moments passed before I crouched to the ground and started picking up the mess. "Sorry." I said to the boy; throwing away the garbage and following Paul.

Or at least that's what I had planned to do, but as I walked out, Paul was nowhere in sight.

The remainder of the day was spent with me replaying the events of lunch over and over in my head. It was all so bizarre.

I had never in all my life seen Paul act that way before; even compared to the maddest I've ever seen him. He looked like he was about to try and attack the boy - possibly even try to kill him. It was frightening to think about.

After my last class ended, I quickly headed towards my locker to retrieve my coat. After quickly shoving it on, I slammed the door closed only to be met with a face.

It was the boy. And along side of him was Angela Webber.

"Hi Seth," The boy spoke.

I stood there, frozen and unable to think of anything to say.

He then tilted his head. "Is there something wrong?" He asked.

"N-no," I sputtered out. "I just didn't think you knew my name – Considering I don't really know yours…" My voice drifted off, which only made the boy smile.

"Angela told me." He said, pointing to the girl next to him. She waved – I then returning the gesture. "I'm Ben by the way." To which he then held out his hand. Shaking it, I gave a slight smile.

"I just wanted to thank you for stepping in today. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't."

"O-oh no please, don't thank me," I said, holding my hand out in defense, "I'm sorry that that even had to happen to you…"

"No it's fine, and that's all thanks to you. Really man, I owe you."

I was about to object, but they both then said their farewells, walking off and leaving me stunned.

I made way through the school doors; the ice cold air brushing against my skin. Walking out to the truck, I paused, remembering that I'm supposed to be driving Paul home.

Driving around and parking in the parking spaces by the field; I spotted Paul in his gear, laughing along with his friends as if the events at lunch didn't even happen.

I couldn't understand it.

Having an entire hour to pass, I decided to lift my legs up onto the wheel, turn the music on low; listening as the steady beats of the music helped me slowly relax.

There was a nocking.

My eyes shot open. Looking ahead I saw the football field, but it was empty.

The nocking sounded again.

Confused at where the sound was coming from, I looked to my right. Through the passenger side window, I saw Paul standing there, his face pressed into the glass; giving the goofiest expression.

I couldn't stop the smile forming on my face. Knowing what he wanted, I reached over, manually unlocking the passenger door.

"Hello, sleepyhead," Paul chimed as he opened the door. He tossed his bag in the middle seat along with mine and sat down; shutting the door behind him.

"How was practice?" I asked, a yawn escaping my mouth in the process.

He shrugged. "Same old, same old I guess."

"Wow, how exciting." I chuckled, turning on truck and backing out.

We we're on the road for about ten minutes and neither of us had spoken. It wasn't a comforting silence though, as both of us we're thinking about the same thing, but neither of us knew how to bring it up.

Paul spoke first.

"I'm sorry…" He whimpered.

I swallowed hard.

"I don't know what happened back there." He took a deep breath. "When that guy bumped into me and I dropped everything, I just…"

"…Yeah?" My voice came out in a whisper.

"I just started seeing red. I felt like I lost touch with myself. Before I knew it I was screaming, and I didn't even know why."

He looked ashamed.

"It's okay," I said, "it's okay to make mistakes. You apologized to him and that's what matters."

He let out a ragged breath. "But I didn't…"

Now I was confused.

"What do you mean?" I asked, looking over to him.

"I didn't apologise to him… I apologised to you."

His face was written with guilt.

"I was about to hit you…" He whispered. "I saw that it was you who grabbed me and for a split second I questioned if I was going to…"

I felt my gut sink.

"How could I even think that...?" He said, clenching his fists. "How could I even contemplate the fact of hitting my best friend when he did absolutely nothing wrong?"

He fell silent for the rest of the drive.

As we entered the town of La Push, I steered the car down a gravel road.

Soon turning into Paul's house, I parked the truck. Shutting off the engine, I glanced towards him; his gaze never leaving the window. Even without seeing his face, I could tell how upset he was about the situation.

I reached a hand over to comfort him.

When the tips of my fingers grazed his arm, my hand shot back.

Paul turned his head to look at me. My face was widened with shock, which only alarmed him.

"Seth? What's wrong?" He asked, panicked.

I looked down to my hand, feeling the lingering sting, as if I just touched the burner of a stove.

Simply extending my hand back over, I inched towards the man next to me. The tips grazed his arm again, and my shock only increased. I pressed my whole hand against him, then my other.

My palms felt like they were burning at the touch.

"Holy hell, Paul… You're so hot…"

Paul then gave me the oddest look I've ever seen, but I only continued.

"Paul you're burning up… like really badly." I then pressed a hand against his forehead. It was just as bad – if not worse.

"You need to get to a hospital." I said, my voice stricken with panic, but Paul only stopped me, taking my hands in his own.

"Seth, I feel completely fine. Are you sure you're feeling okay, though?" He asked in a worried tone.

"I-I'm fine! You're the one who's not fine! Jeez Paul, how can you not realize that your skin is boiling hot?" I shouted, but it only seemed to confuse the boy more.

"Seth, I'm perfectly fine." His brow crinkled. "Maybe you should get home and get some rest…"

Did he really not feel it? Did he truly feel fine? Was it all just in my head? There were so many questions racing around.

"O-okay…" I admitted defeat.

Paul stared at me for a moment.

"Okay." He said, before grabbing his bag and stepping out of the truck. "I'll see you tomorrow…?" He asked before smiling.

"Y-yeah, see you tomorrow." I agreed.

He gave me one final glance before closing the door, then took off into his home.

In a way, that was the last time I saw my best friend, Paul Lahote.