Hello. My name is Rebecca Moss. I had turned seventeen 60 years ago. A little bit weird saying this but I also died 60 years ago. This is the story of how I died.

It was my 17th birthday on the 12th of March, 1961. It was a nice Sunday morning. My family was happy for me, I got many gifts and cards, including clothes, money and a doll from my grandmother. She still thought I played with dolls so I accepted it.

But while I was eating, I suddenly felt something scratching my back. I thought it was a rash, so I let it go for a while, but after a few minutes it kept on scratching, so I called my mum to see if I had anything serious. There was nothing at all.

I let it slide again so I got up and went to my bedroom to change my clothes as I was still in my night-gown. I wore a blue dress with patterns on the top piece and a comfortable thin belt on my waist. I added beige heels to compliment the blue and some gold stud earrings. When I brushed out my hair I got out and drove to my friend's house to pick them up for the party I held out in the bar nearby. About ten minutes later we arrived at the party and it was really fun at some times, especially when my favourite songs came up on the radio.

That day was the day I could legally drink so I took some beer from the bar, but it tasted so weird that I began to feel light-headed. I assured myself that my friends were there just in case something happens to me, so I kept on drinking. Just about a few glasses later I got drunk and fell on the floor. I hit my head pretty hard on the table corner so I got a concussion.

My friends; Betty and Jessie, were shook but they didn't drink a lot so they were conscious and called the hospital just in time.

My mum and dad came to the hospital but they were mad. I think they came to rant about how irresponsible I am. Especially, my mum, she wouldn't stop speaking.

Once I opened my eyes, I saw a man with no face and a knife in his left hand. I heard some people talking outside my hospital door, I thought they were my parents, but I was so tired, I passed out again. Then, I started hearing irregular noises and I woke up again. My consciousness got back after a minute, but I could not remember what happened except for the man in my room. I started panicking, a lot. Why would a man be in my hospital room staring at me with a knife?