MidReal Story
Create my version of this story
When I was a kid, I discovered a dead body.
It’s the first thing I think of when I play chess with Claire, who is probably my best friend.
I’ve been trying to write my college essay for weeks now, and I can’t come up with anything good.
I don’t think the colleges that I’m applying to want to read about how I had to put down the family dog last year, or how my great-grandfather has lost his mind and doesn’t recognize anyone anymore.
They want a story about something that made me who I am.
What they want is the time I found a dead body in the woods.
That’s actually a pretty good story.
Maybe I’ll write about that.
“What about the time you found a dead body in the woods?”
Claire suggests, in the same tone she would use to say, “What if we order a pizza for dinner?”
I look over at her, and she’s studying the chess board with a frown on her face.
I glance at the board, but it all looks like nonsense to me.
Her move should be obvious—I’m setting up for a classic pawn-to-queen-four disaster over here.
The black queen is staring down my king, and she’s got enough pieces on me already that losing my queen will definitely be the end of me.
I guess it makes sense that Claire is thinking about death right now.
We’ve been talking about potential essay topics, and so far, all of mine have been pretty morbid.
I don’t know why Claire is even bothering with this game—she’s already got me pinned down like a bug under a microscope, and she had me saying “check” on like the fifth move.
She could have ended this game whenever she wanted to.
Claire is really good at chess.
She’s really good at everything she does.
I admit to being a little surprised that she remembers this story—it’s from when we were little kids, playing in the woods behind my house.
My older brother, Ethan, worked out there all summer, clearing walking trails for the town conservation committee.
Claire and I were out there playing “dead man” when we tripped over the body.
It wasn’t dead at first—it was just some guy who was lying there with his eyes closed.
But he didn’t wake up when we shook him or yelled at him, so Ethan ran for help.
I stayed with him until the ambulance came.
I don’t remember much about what happened after that—I think my mom and Ethan went to the hospital to check on the guy.
I remember that my mom said he was going to be okay.
But I also remember that his skin was cold.
I know that Claire is serious about this topic because she’s still looking at the chess board, and she’s not saying anything else.
She’s worried about me.
I really should have seen that move coming.
“How about ‘The Day I Found a Dead Body’?”
she says at last.
“That would definitely get the admissions committee’s attention.”
“I don’t know,” I say.
“It’s not really a big deal or anything.”
“Not a big deal?”
Claire repeats, raising her eyebrows.
I shrug, and she makes her move.
My queen is gone, just like that.
“Is it because your brother found it too?
You’re scared you won’t sound original?”
“I don’t know,” I say again.
“Yeah, that could be it.”
My cheeks are hot.
It’s always been a problem for me, being the little brother of the most popular guy in school.
Ethan is on the football team, and he’s got a girlfriend who is a cheerleader, and he throws parties in our basement when our parents are out of town.
He made it all the way to state finals in the chess tournament last year.
It’s not just that he’s better at everything than me, it’s that everyone knows it—so it’s hard to write about anything in my life without feeling like I’m just copying Ethan.
But this story is mine alone.
It’s just that I don’t want it.
I don’t want to remember it.
It was a long time ago, and it doesn’t matter anymore.
When I was a kid, my brother and I invented a game called “dead man.”
The rules are simple: you lie down on the ground and close your eyes, and then you just wait there until someone comes and finds you.
Whoever finds you has to run and get help.
The winner is the person who gets to see your eyes open again when you come back to life.
The winner is also the dead man for the next round.
Our parents didn’t really like it when we played that game, so we usually went out into the woods behind our house.
No one but us ever went out there, so we could play as loud as we wanted and we didn’t have to worry about getting in trouble.
One day, we were playing dead man out in the woods, and Ethan didn’t come back.
I waited for a long time, but he never came back.
So I opened my eyes, and I got up.
And I found the dead body.
It was just lying there in the middle of the path, right where anyone could trip over it.
When Ethan finally came back, he said we had to go home right away and tell our mom what happened.
We never played dead man again.
Our mom was really mad at us for being out in the woods by ourselves, but she was also scared for us.
I think she was crying.
Ethan said that we had won that round of dead man by default because nobody else had found the dead man.
He said that it was good that we found him because he needed our help.
But he didn’t wake up when we shook him or yelled at him.
His skin was cold.
I know that he was dead already.
But what if he hadn’t been dead?
What if he was just lying there in the woods because he needed our help?
What if he came back to life after we went for help?
It took a few days before my brother would tell me what happened after he ran for help.
It took a few days before he would speak at all.
At first, he just sat in his bedroom with his hands over his ears, rocking back and forth and humming.
I had nightmares about that cold skin for weeks afterward.
When I told Ethan about them, he said, “It’s not real, Alex.
