They murdered him

A spurt of saliva hit Jerry's cheek

When he moved his lips, he tasted the acid of dirt and grass and gravel

Nausea began to spread through his stomach, warm and oozy and evil

Sweat moved like small moist bugs on his forehead

Sidewalk: such an innocent word

The sun vanished behind floating clouds

The wind rose, kicking puffs of dust from the football field

He was tired

And uncomfortable

Mother's dead

Sadness seized him

The beads of persperation still danced on his forehead

But he became stiff and cold

A showdown now?

More than hate: something sick

Jerry felt soiled, dirty, as if he should run to confession and bare his soul

his head throbbed with shooting pains

Do I dare disturb the universe?

He was on the edge of panic.