Katrina Hall (or Kat as she's known) has always been curious, about life in general. She always asked questions when she was young, but found one of them was never answered.
Now, at 16, she's decided to find out about death herself.
And she's taking her best friend Felix with her.
Felix sat, and watched his best friend, Kat.
'Can we go home yet? Can we go to bed? Is it done?' He asked nervously, fearing that she might get angry and try to hurt him, and as much as anyone pretended to doubt her they all knew she was good at hurting people.
'Does it look like I'm done to you?' She replied angrily, not turning around. He could still picture the expression on her face without seeing it.
They were in one of the fields near Kat's house, where Felix was sleeping over. She had said something about a ritual and led him out the back of her house to here. Now he was just sat on the muddy ground, watching the gentle curves of his best friend contort and the way her soft, black hair fell down her back as she -
Wait. What actually WAS she doing?
He got to his feet and stood behind her, resting his hand on her shoulder as she continued to crouch over something. He squatted next to Kat, but recoiled when he finally realised what he was watching, waiting, ALLOWING.
She had (what was left of) a dead bird. Pigeon, by the looks of it. She had cut it open, all the way doen it's chest and had taken out its insides, blood and small intestine covering her fingers and the knife she held in her left hand.
She was CUTTING it open!
'What are you - Why - Kat' She stood up, dropping the bird and the knife, standing right up close to him and smiling, her face so close to his.
'I'm finished with that now. We can go back inside if you like.' Her bright green eyes glinted, somehow cute and scary at the same time.
If only, he thought, I could just reach down and kiss her. Right now. She was so pretty -
'Let's go.' She walked past him, leaving the bird in the field, dead. He saw with shock that the birds corpse itself was inside an upside-down pentagram, the sign of the devil. A chill went down his spine, and he turned around quickly.
He saw the soft sillouette of his best friend walking back to the house. He was scared of her, but had liked her for so long.
He sighed, tuning back to the dead bird. Putting it back together would ruin whatever Kat had spent the night doing. And she would be angry. He didn't want her to pick up the knife again, not only because she had turned scary in the past few weeks, but because he wanted to make her happy.
Sighing, he walked back to the house after his crazy, scary, gorgeous best friend.