Ben was a shy girl. She would shuffle her way down the halls of Sheridan High every day, clutching her books to her chest. She only ever made eye contact with the ground, studying the patterns of the blue and white linoleum tile floors.
However, the moment she was safe in the confines of her small bedroom, her shields lowered and her shoulders straightened. She was a different person surrounded by those calming blue walls. She was free. Every day, almost like clockwork, she would sit at her desk and turn on the small laptop that rested there. She would go on one of the various chat sites she loved to visit. Instantly, her computer would flood with greetings. She felt loved. Wanted, even. In this small space, she felt alive. She felt content.
It was November, getting dangerously close to December, and the old feelings of dread would set in. Winter was coming, and along with it came an old but familiar foe. Loneliness.  Although surrounded by countless people during the day and countless more over the computer screen each night, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing from her life. That was when she met David. He was new to the site she frequented most often, and after one night of talking to him, Ben felt the loneliness dissipate, if only by a small margin. Each day she would rush home to talk to him, and would talk to him until the early morning hours. She convinced herself she didn’t need to sleep as long as he was there. January turned to February, and Valentine’s day was approaching. About a week before Valentine’s day, David asked Ben something she found strange. Strange, yet somehow exciting and tempting.

Would you like to meet me? We could be together for Valentine’s day…

Ben stared at the screen, watching her cursor blink on the glowing screen. She had grown fond of David, she might have even been able to say she loved him. He kept her going. He erased her fears, doubts, and insecurities. He had made her whole again. She set her fingers back on the keys and began to type.

Sure. But how would we meet? You live a state away..

She waited for his response.

I could drive the night before. You just need to tell me where you are.

She nodded toward the screen, then told him all he needed to know about where she was. As the days passed, she grew more and more excited, but a feeling had settled in the pit of her stomach that she couldn’t get rid of. A feeling of danger.  Valentine’s Day came faster than she expected, and before she knew it, she was standing in front of the school, waiting for David to show. She didn’t have to wait long, however. Mere minutes after the parking lot had cleared, an old beat up pickup truck pulled up, its red paint chipped and peeling, its doors rattling loudly. The tinted window rolled down to reveal an empty passenger seat, and a driver leaning over to open the door. He had long brown hair that fell over pronounced features. A pair of black rimmed glasses sat perched on his nose, and she could see them sliding down. His red hoodie was about a size too big, and his worn blue jeans about a size too small.

“Bernice?” He called out to her, using her full name. It was David. She couldn’t help but smile.
“Hi, David.” Ben said happily, climbing into the worn passenger seat of the old Chevrolet. She closed the door and they sped away. “Where are we going?” She asked as he pulled out onto the highway.
“I have a surprise for you.” He said as he passed a large semi.
They drove for about a half an hour in silence before he turned off the highway and onto a narrow gravel lane. At the end of the lane was an old brick house surrounded by trees. David parked on the grass in front of the creaking porch. He got out of the truck, the door closing heavily behind him. He walked around the cab to her door and opened it for her.
“Surprise! This is my house.” He said. It was only an hour away from hers, and not as far away
as she expected. The nervous ball in her stomach began to grow. He said he lived in Illinois… She thought. She looked around, growing anxious. Ben climbed the steps to the porch, always following David. He directed her into the house, holding the door open.
“I have one more surprise,” he said, and a small click echoed through the house. He had locked the door. Ben turned around just in time to see a large fist make contact with her nose, and her vision went black.
At school the next day, no one noticed she was gone. Her parents, who never noticed her anyway, assumed she had run away. Bernice Miller was gone, and no one seemed to care. It was almost April when a boy a year older than her finally told someone about the old beat up Chevrolet that had picked up Ben on Valentine’s day. On her birthday a month later, a body was found abandoned on the side of the road, mere miles from Sheridan High School. Her bones had been crushed, her body covered in tire tracks, and in her hair was bits of chipped red paint.