Twist and he was dead. Broken neck. Watching the agony in the contorted face I could only stand in my own space of terror. Knowing that no-one would ever believe what happened. Instinct told me to run home, pack a bag, passport, money and take a plane to the other side of the world. I could not move.
Simon's hand touched mine and for the first time since kindergarten, I held hands with another boy. What seemed like hours later we moved and looked at each other, mirrors of incredulity and shock.
John had told us years ago the bizarre story about his house, the mysterious way members of the family had been killed. We all knew it was just a story, OF COURSE IT COULD NEVER BE TRUE.
Yet we were witnesses to the most macabre murder we could imagine. Our friend was gone forever.
Who would ever believe our story? Not my parents, friends, the police, the media, the public......