“Do you think it’s dead?”
I remember Timmy Polanski saying as I poked at it with a stick. We were half way through recess when we found a frog laying on its back in the thicket close to the gate that bordered the school. I’m not sure why I was so interested in the frog, I began rolling it around and trying to figure out why it wasn’t moving. Had it been killed, died of natural causes or was it just sleeping? I squatted down and inspected every inch of the thing; the eyes were rolled back into its head and the skin looked dry and crisp clearly a sign it had been sitting under the sun for quite some while.
“Just leave it Peter, Mr Gunnarson could catch us at any second!”
Timmy squeaked. I could tell he was uncomfortable and wanted to go back to playing tag before recess ended. Now, before I tell you how this situation ends you need to understand that I was pretty smart for my age, I had a healthy upbringing and my parents raised me strict but very lovingly. I never got into any kind of trouble and everyone seemed to love me. I had been friends with Timmy ever since we started school and I would never normally do anything to upset him or bring him harm.
So, to summarise I was a good kid, but when my thoughts told me to pick up the frog and chase Timmy, I didn’t think twice. I picked it up, the deceased amphibian was surprisingly slimy considering how dry it had looked. I turned around and looked Timmy dead in the eyes, fear shot through his body almost as quickly as adrenaline had shot through mine.
“N-No, No Peter. What’re you doing?”
I smiled. The absolute horror in Timmy’s voice seemed to excite me, I couldn’t explain why I was getting such a thrill out of this, it just felt… good. One step was all it took for Timmy to turn on his heels and attempt to flee. Bless him, Timmy never was good at any kinds of sports. His heels hitting him in the ass with each exaggerated leap of his flailing legs. For context, Timmy was a shy timid kid with curly ginger hair and a very skinny frame. So naturally, I caught up with him pretty quickly and pushed him down onto the hot asphalt.
All I had intended to do was scare him, I’m sure we’ve all been in a very similar situation with a younger sibling or a partner. They ask you to remove a spider or moth from their room only for you to capture the thing and then use it to torment them. This wasn’t any different or at least it wasn’t supposed to be. I guess I kind of got hooked on how much Timmy was thrashing about and screaming that I wanted to see how far I could take it, could I possibly make him piss his pants? Or throw up? Either result would be hilarious and this would only be something we’d joke about for years to come.
Timmy had begun to scream very loudly and I wasn’t going to be able to have either of those outcomes if Mr Gunnarson pulled me off of him. I cupped my hand over his mouth so I would have time to tease Timmy with the frog. It was all going to plan until Timmy opened his mouth as wide as he could and clamped his teeth down onto my hand. From this moment on it’s all a bit of a blur to me, I remember drawing my hand back and seeing blood, Timmy looking up at me with tears in his eyes apologising over and over again and finally I remember the frog legs resting on Timmy’s bottom lip as I forced it into his mouth and held his jaw shut.
To keep a long story short… Timmy swallowed the frog.
A lot happened after that. I was temporarily expelled from school, obviously. I had to attend multiple child therapy sessions, I had to write an apology letter to Timmy and his parents and worst of all I was no longer allowed to see Timmy. By the time I came back to school, he had left. His parents had upped and moved halfway across the country and I regret that I never got to apologise properly, it was a flash in the pan incident, a joke that got way out of hand and resulted in my childhood friend leaving me forever.
—
And that brings us to now, I’m 33 years old, working a job that I hate and divorced with two kids of my own. But this story isn’t about me, you’re probably wondering why I’m telling you all this. Why I’m blabbering on about an incident that happened when I was only a child. Well, because I’m currently afraid for my life.
It started two weeks ago, I got home from work to see a letter on the floor. The writing was almost unreadable, sloppily written in what appeared to be a red fountain pen. It took me a while to figure out what it said but it read “To the boy who ruined everything” and inside was the apology letter I had written to Timmy and his parents all those years ago. The paper was surprisingly in good condition considering how long ago it had been written. I did the obvious thing and searched the internet to find Timmy and lay this to bed, clearly he was still upset about the situation and I needed to squash the beef.
Nothing. There is no trace of Timmy Polanski anywhere on social media and I looked for almost two hours. I scoured every single person that went to our school, looking through their friends to try and find him. It’s almost as if when he had left my life, he had also left everyone else’s. I forgot about it for a while and figured he just wanted to remind me how much of a horrible person I was, I did my best to find him and sort this out but maybe he didn’t want be found.
I really wish this is how my story ended, that I could tell you that Timmy never bothered me again and I worked my miserable job, retired and eventually died. But I wouldn’t be writing this if that was the case. Instead, I began to see his curly ginger hair everywhere I went, the coffee shop, the bus and even at work. I’d see glimpses of him walk past or in my peripheral vision, just out of sight but not out of mind. I’d feel eyes on me almost everywhere I went. I think he is back for me, back to get revenge for the horrible thing I did to him as a kid.
I hope I am losing my mind, that the guilt and regret of my actions are outweighing my common sense. But I’m not crazy. He’s coming for me, any day now I can feel it.
Timmy, if you’re reading this - Please, I can’t take it any longer.
I’m sorry about the frog.