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by Tara
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Drama · #2218110
be careful on the internet.
Social Deathwork

Six months ago she was a senior in high school graduating with honors and a scholarship to go to Stanford. She was from Burlington, Kentucky and was in a relationship with Jeffery Hobstone, who was a mutual friend of my cousin. I had never known he existed until he suggested I be friends with him because I was friends with my cousin. She liked Donnie Darko and 28 Days Later. Her interests included everything from reading to sleeping to Sandra Bullock getting “Low” on The Proposal. Her inspirations were Anne Frank and Sandra Day O’Conner, which I thought was different and sexy since most girls put people like Lady Gaga or some shit like that. She confirmed my friendship and it started from there.

I commented on her default of my little pony. I told my younger sister used to watch that show when we were little. She replied by saying even though she's in high school she still collects them because they are nostaligic and remind her of the good days. I told her she could be my little pony. She laughed out loud and told me I was funny guy.

Five months ago she said Happy Fourth of July to everyone. I asked her if she was going to any parties and she said she didn't party all too much. She didn’t like to drink. I made a mental note to stop drinking. I also found out she didn’t like smokers or drug dealers or crack addicts. I scratched those off my list of things to work on.

Four months ago her relationship got complicated and she was confused. Rumors were spreading about Jeff, but she was undecided on what to do with the relationship because she loved him. She wasn't sure who to trust. I told her she could trust me. She said she was going to Stanford soon and leaving Jeff behind worried her. We chatted. I told her that maybe the best thing was to break it off so he could have his freedom and so could she. I convinced her that the best thing for her was to go to Stanford a single girl, so she didn’t have anything to worry about but school. She was starting to see the light. I was helping her through the tunnel.

Three months ago Jeff joined the Marines. She became single and was excited to go to Stanford. I congratulated her and she thought maybe we could meet up some time. She’d love to meet me. I told her I've wanted to meet her for a very long time. I told her I went to Stanford too. Of course I lied.

Two months ago she joined a sorority. Her pictures of her in short dresses and makeup with her sisters were everything I hoped for in what she would be. I had to see her. I couldn’t take it anymore. I was close enough to her where I could feel her, touch her, smell her. Close enough where I could have her for myself, because I knew she wasn't going to get back with Jeff since he was deported. And she hadn't mentioned Jeff. In fact she was hanging out a lot with some guy named Drake and I didn’t like that. I thought we had something special, but apparently I thought wrong.

Last month I finally met her at a Frat party after thanksgiving. She was gorgeous. She was sexy. And she was drunk. She recognized me though, and I couldn't stop staring at her slim, trim figure with the perfect curves and the white, petite silk dress that was higher than her knees and showed the perfect amount of cleavage. She was upset because Drake finally asked that girl out that he was crushing on, leaving her alone at the party. I told her she didn’t have to be alone. We went somewhere quiet. A motel room. I won’t tell you which motel. Or which room. But at the room she expressed her love to me. I knew she was drunk but I didn’t care. It made me swell with eagerness and I took her then. She knew what she was doing. And afterwards she told me to take her back to the Sorority house. So I did.

That night replayed in my head. She unfriended me and I couldn't find her. I was pissed. I was angry, and hurt and betrayed. That one night together and she decided to get of me. I wondered if Drake decided to ask her out instead. I wondered if she was too creeped out by me. I wondered if I was bad in bed, but then I couldn't have been, because I know she enjoyed it. Her moans and her screaming out my name told me she did. i had to see her. I couldn't take it.

Two weeks ago I went to the Sorority house. I broke my way in. She was alone. She told me to get away, that she didn’t want to see me. That I was a creeper and that night shouldn't have happened. That she would call the cops on me if I didn’t get out. But I couldn't get out, not before telling her that I loved her and I wanted her and I couldn’t live without her. She told me I was a repulsive sick bastard and she could never love me and didn't want to love me. Ever.

Her blood was a dark, crimson color that splattered all over the new wooden floors.

And now somewhere, I won’t tell you where, there’s a body of a girl lying in a ditch. She was from Burlington, Kentucky. Her Status?

Dead, missing and buried in snow.

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