During the party, Joan realized that no guy there liked her because she wasn't blonde. She wasn't sexy. She wasn't ugly, but she wasn't sexy. She wasn't very social either. No one even tried to talk to her. Everyone ignored her.
The girls, however, didn't treat her like she was useless. But whenever they got the boys' attention, they forgot about her.
When it was time to leave, around 11 p.m., Joan felt scared to go alone. She realized the girls were planning to leave with the guys. They had arrived by taxi, but now they had changed their plan. Joan didn't want to take a taxi alone at night. The boys invited all the other girls to go with them, except Joan.
Joan felt embarrassed to ask if they could take her with them too, but she was terrified of going alone. Gathering her courage, she decided to ask the boy she liked. Deep down, she knew he didn't like her, but she had no other choice.
"Hey Adolf, do you mind if I ride with you when we leave?" Joan asked hesitantly. She felt shy talking to him, especially since he was surrounded by a group of his friends. But she had no other choice.
Adolf turned to her with a sarcastic look. "Sorry, I can't," he said, smirking. Joan's face flushed with embarrassment, and as she walked away, she heard Adolf and the other guys laughing behind her.
"Who does she think she is?" one of them said, followed by more chuckles.
Joan decided she had no option but to take a taxi. She stepped outside, pulled out her phone, and waited on the sidewalk.
Adolf got into his car with two girls, leaving an empty seat behind. All the other guys also had extra seats in their cars. As they drove off, they saw Joan standing alone on the sidewalk, waiting for her taxi. The time was now around 11:30 p.m.
This was Joan's first time attending a party, and she had only come because her friends had begged her to. But once they met the guys, her friends completely forgot about her. Now she was left all alone. Watching everyone leave, she felt scared and vulnerable. Right then and there, she decided she would never go to a party again.
As the others drove away, they noticed a man walking along the sidewalk. He was tall and moved quickly, like he was in a hurry. Through his side mirror, Adolf saw the man heading toward where Joan was standing.
Adolf slowed his car, watching as Joan suddenly stepped back, looking frightened. Then, a loud noise rang out—it sounded like a gunshot. Joan collapsed to the ground, falling like a tree being cut down. The man kept walking, unfazed.
Panicked, they called the police and ran to Joan. But it was too late. She was dead.
Later, the authorities revealed that the man was mentally ill, wandering the streets with a gun and randomly shooting people.
If you're wondering why I write these kinds of stories, it's because sometimes I feel sad for no reason, and this is how I deal with it.
