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“Should I put it back? Or-or what? Like…” While I continued rambling and panicking, more traits of the person were revealed. It was a white male, lean, with a zipped-up jacket on. His eyes were closed, hair filthy with mud and a couple twigs. I couldn’t make out his hair color or anything much more. “Maybe- maybe you have a name? Wallet or something, right?” My voice was shaky, but the talking semi-helped. I searched the person for some sort of identification; I found nothing, in fact, it seemed the body was stripped of anything of importance. I breathed a heavy sigh, Should I call the police? Phone a friend? I don’t even know what to do here.
Moss covering the dirt in some places was flattened and worn down. I thought until my head hurt. Finally, I pulled out my phone and called my mom- There was never a time I couldn’t rely on her.
“Hey Mom?” I paused to hear her ask where I was for the billionth time, “Yea yea… Anyways, hey, I need your help. I found something, by the river?” I looked over at the man, just lying there, quiet and looking, “But I can’t pick it up. Could you drive the truck over?” She told me she’d be there in about fifteen minutes. I rolled my eyes, it was so long.
I was working on cleaning him off when my mom pulled up in the construction orange pick-up truck. I heard the sound of the engine at the edge of the forest and knew the truck wouldn’t make it past the trees. “Over here, Mom!” I stood up and waved. She waved back and walked over. When she came into view, shock plastered itself on her face. On the bank across the river, my mom just stood there with a hand over her mouth, “Oh my God. How did you..?” She shook her head, frustratedly slicing her hand down and then to rest at her side, “Let’s just…. Just get this into the truck and drive home. We’ll figure this out there.” I cautiously went over to her, and lead my mom on the fallen tree. “Did you find any I.D.?” she asked. “No. I checked though.” My mom took him by the legs and I got under his arms. “Ugh…” I rolled my eyes as my mom groaned in disgust. In an awkward struggle of matching paces and almost falling into the river at one point, we managed to get him into the rusted bed of the truck. I closed the back. We both wiped our hands on our jeans in a futile effort and clambered into that old Toyota; Mom drove home without a word.