The home bell rings, but I am not eager to go home. I am sure my mother has been notified about my little incident during the first period. I walk along lazily, enjoying my last moments of freedom before I am grounded…again.


    As I approach the last few driveways before my own, I notice a foul scent. It reeks of rotting food, but much worse. Curious, I follow the scent into my neighbour’s backyard. The stench is almost unbearable now.


    What could that be? I wonder. It is even worse than my mother''s compost bin.


    I survey the entire area closely. My neighbour, Mr.Bernstein, is not home. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    There must be a dead animal or something back here somewhere. The smell is just so foul, I feel like I have to figure out where it is coming from.


    “Marcy?!”


    I startle at the sudden sound of my mother’s voice. She is standing on our back deck and can see clearly into the neighbour’s yard.


    “What are you doing in Bernstein’s yard!?”


    “Don’t you smell that?” I ask her.


    She looks at me, dumbfounded.


    “No, I don’t. Would you get inside before somebody sees you! We don’t need you causing any more trouble today.” She sounds angry.


    I sigh and make my way back to the front yard. I realize how crazy I must look; sneaking around the neighbour’s backyard. Even if there was something dead in Bernstein’s yard, there is nothing abnormal about that. Right?