01

There are different ways to start off a Tuesday morning, and one of them is definitely not to wake up to the news that your best friend since you were five is dead.

At first, it felt numb. I guess that's what other people call being in a state of shock. I was in a very strong stage of denial, yelling at my Mom that perhaps she had it wrong and it's a bit fucked up to play around like that, my mind going here and there and up the shitty wonders of why did this have to happen and this has got to be a nightmare.

Everything happened so quickly I had no way of catching up to myself, but as soon as I got to the scene where she was brutally stabbed, I knew I wouldn't be waking up because it wasn't a nightmare in the first place. I think that's the first thing I had to move on from.

Honestly, it still hasn't sunk in. Sometimes I'd feel like I'm still there on my unmade bed that Tuesday morning, my breathing fast and my heart seeming like it had stopped. And then I would come to my senses and realize, oh. It's been five months since then.

A couple of days after she was found inside a sack with tape around her mouth, another girl was found yet again at the same place in the same condition. Then a couple of days later, it happened again with a third girl. It came to the point where everybody began panicking and canceling classes because no person was ever found responsible for all that demonic bullshit.

Everybody was afraid.

Not the teenagers though.

On Saturday morning the week before Maisie (my best friend) died, she and I were talking about going to a huge house party next week. She was excited as she talked about the clothes she would wear and how she would do her hair, but I wasn't really that thrilled. For one, I call myself an introvert. Maisie is the complete opposite of me, which is very formulaic in stories like this, but oftentimes that's just how friendships work, especially when you grew together with them. Anyway, Maisie was very excited to attend this party simply because she's a young teenager who likes to have fun, and to add to that, a social butterfly who liked laughing with others . . . but, well, she died, so obviously she ended up not going to the party.

Because of the three consecutive murders of young girls, of course, other people with common sense would think that the house party would be canceled. What a joke. As I said, everybody was afraid during that time except the teenagers.

So even though there's a high chance of being murdered by some random asshole, since most teenagers live by the stupid motto YOLO which I like to define as YOu wilL just get yOurself killed, the party was still on.

And that's where this story would begin.

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