Today was the prettiest day in Ohio all year. The temperature was perfect. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. The leaves were beginning to fall from the surrounding trees. It was a crisp and clean 65 degrees, and sunny. Where ever you looked you would see children riding their bikes, laughing. You would see a young gentleman guiding an elderly woman across the street, smiling. You would see a teenager in the car with her mother or father, swaying her head and singing along with the radio. Then you'd see me, sitting on the rope swing in my backyard. I'm wearing a pink tanktop and a brown leather jacket. I'm wearing black tights with knee high brown leather boots. My head is down, my brown hair blowing in the crisp autumn breeze. You'd see me and you'd probably think of something simple.
'Why the hell is she out there crying? Did daddy not buy her the car she wanted?'
'What a brat. She's so hateful to her mother.'
But what above isn't true. You see what you see on the outside. My name is Alyssa Church, and my best friend was brutally murdered in my own home last night and I know exactly what happened. The biggest problem? Her murderer left me a mesage. If I tell anyone, I'm next.
