As he started stomping down the pile of dirt, hoping it would go back to normal and look exactly the same as the ground beside it, he soon realized it was almost impossible to do so.
But then again, it was almost 5 a.m. He wasn't sure who would wake up at that time of day.
Erik looked around and wiped the sweat that ran down his forehead. This only made things worse, covering his face with a sticky red liquid.
Blood.
Then, a great idea formed in his head.
He ran off to where the party was, took his car, and went back to where he had dug the hole. He opted to sacrifice his green Ford Fiesta, which he had painted himself, for the so-called greater good.
It took him a while to position the car perfectly, but as he was leaving, it dawned on him that this was, indeed, a bad idea.
And so, as much as he loved his so-called friends—whom he had only known for a week—he came up with a better idea.
He ran back and took the black Audi A5 that belonged to Jim.
This, however, was not an easy task.
He had to tiptoe into the house, find Jim, and take his keys. Only then would he be able to bring his plan to fruition.
After successfully putting the car in position, he left.
He drove as far west as his Ford could take him.
After all, it wasn't like he knew anyone in his "home" that well.
It had only been a week.