Hello, my name is Zoey. Many people may not know me, but by the end of this everyone will know me. I am 17yrs old, and I have a secret to tell you. I was murdered two days ago. The day started as any other day; school, work, hanging out with friends, but somewhere something went wrong. Life was great for me; I was on top of the world. Many of you may already think this is the “love story gone wrong”; think again this is about more than that. This is about the life that I was living the day that my whole life went into turmoil.

Fear. The feeling of the axe coming down on my spine repeatedly after screaming the piercing word stop. The unbearable last thought that my life is over. The drowning sensation of doom ever ending in the nights of your last hope. He could be watching you right now. Look over your shoulder and beware of who you might see. He wasn’t anyone that I knew, he was more than what you will ever think of him to be. He was the savior in my life. He could be your very friend. The truth is he could be sitting right beside you and you never know. Imagine the blood pooling on the concrete as he looms over you laughing at the sight of your demise. You realizing that this is what he wanted from the very beginning of your friendship. Those feelings belonged to me in the very 7 hours of my torture in the damp moldy shed. Will you ever trust anyone again after reading my story? I hope not.

The morning was unbearably long, I remember thinking someone please come save me from this horrid school. Lunch came or at least what the school passes as lunch; which is actually the hungry perspiration of the workers who slave over the hot stoves, but only to get the kids back mouthing reply of the foul language that we think of as a thank you. Then before I knew it I was at my waitress job getting hit on by the guy in vibrant yellow hat. Most people were rude in the little diner, but that didn't stop me from being nice. My mother always taught me to “ grin and bear it”. But mama never knew it wasn't okay to be too polite.

After work I called my friends to hang out. See, drugs were their thing, so by the time they came to get me none of them noticed that I was gone. It wasn’t until the next day that they realized something was missing. Brandon, the funny never serious friend of mine, decided to joke saying that I had been kidnapped and raped, little did he know how true he was. By the time my mother noticed; my grave had already been dug in the little country field beside his house. So close to him, that’s where he kept me. So close that when I start to rot and decay he will smell the scent of my dying hope to be found. As I was waiting for my friends he drove up asking me if I needed a ride . I finally swallowed my pride to yes. Little did I know that very pride would later come up for me choke on it in the shadowy grave of my interest for him. He was too good to be true. Daddy did always say to watch out for the lying guys who will treat you right, but kill you in the end. Daddy didn’t men the words like they mean to me now.
“ Are you tired?” he sweetly asked.
“ Only a little.” was my dreaded reply. Gently he reached over to take my hand tenderly.
“What are you doing?” I snapped viscously. He snatched his hand back as if scolded.
“Look I’m tired of this and your going to pay.” Before I could process his meaning he smashed his fist against my face. Terror broke out as I shrieked for him to let out of the car. I could sense him combing through his brain for an explanation to tell me why he had just done that. But at last he couldn’t think of a good one. After the months of careful planning he hadn’t even known what he was going to tell me his reasoning for hitting me. He switched directions heading towards his house.

When we arrived he yanked me out of the car by my, beautiful straight long black, hair mumbling to himself that everything will be okay. As he was pulling me through the shed door a thought registered with me, I could get out of this. I fought, swiftly kicking his upper shin. Turning to scamper away from him, and only making it a yard before he caught me. As he tackled me to the ground the murderer quickly covered my mouth to muffle my scream.
“ You’re not getting away from me this time.” He whispered into my ear threateningly. Dragging me back mercilessly, he kept saying it’s going to be okay Bree, everything is going to be fine. Bree, I know that name I thought helplessly.
“I’m not Bree” I said through clenched teeth.
“Shut up!” He screamed searching for control, but coming up empty handed. We have reached the shed again, and as he pushes me in I get grips on what I should do.

“Honey, it’s going to be okay. Just let me go and we can talk about it.” I helplessly said. He didn’t buy it this time.
“Shut up you nasty whore.” He said heatedly. Pushing me down on the floor he pounced on me with the vigor of a panther. Beating his fist into my side, face, and anything he could reach, repeatedly beating me. What I did next cost me my very life.
“I know why she left, and I would have left too. But you were too stupid to see that.” I spit the words out at him in a blind fury. Before I knew what was happening another blow to the head was returned in favor of my words. Refusing to show any weakness I blocked him out.
“You think you can just ignore me?” Hysteria seeping through his words. He is crying now, but I barely notice through my pain.
“Why do you continue to do this to me? I try all the time to make you happy!” He is delirious now. Suddenly I take new look on him. A twisted part of me feels sorry for him, but then all thoughts of that exist my mind as he drags out a staple gun. A hundred thoughts run through my head.
“What are you going to do with that?” I asked while horror seeped into my voice. With a deep conviction in my heart I knew what he was going to do. As the gun came down on my lips one last word escaped my mouth.
“You’ll…” That’s all I got out before the first staple injected into my skin hitting my teeth with an unbearable pain. I didn’t know what to do, so I tried to scream. As each staple went through my skin I kept thinking I’m going to make it through this, and show no weakness. Too late, as the last staple wedged itself in the gap between my teeth my strength broke.

After that everything became numb to me.
“You just wouldn’t listen to me.” He said through the tears and pain. As the axe came down on my spine in utter fear, for every stroke each staple was ripped from my lips as I screamed for mercy. The word stop lost in thoughts of anguish. Life slowly blinking out of me as Brandon came down on my spine one last time. Justice will never come for me, but that just proves my friends will never know who they really are.