The Bad Girl's a Virgin✓

"I'm So Sorry."

The day wore on quietly. I sat spent most of it moping. It wasn't until it was about three in the afternoon when I decided to go out and make myself feel happy again.

So I placed on an orange sexy sun top and jeans and I hopped into my car and drove down to the pier. Going down there always made me feel better when I was feeling lonely. I would go to the arcade, buy lunch at The Pearl, then ice cream at the ice-cream place at the very end of the boardwalk.

While I drove down there I tried to clear my mind of the "Jackson afair" and think of the future, one in which I don't remember a thing and I feel fine and contented.

Pulling up at the boardwalk, I immediately get hit with the sea blast, the salty air mixed with buttery popcorn and cotton candy. Yup! This is the boardwalk.

I climb out of the car, closed the door and locked it. I put my sling bag over my shoulder and made my way across the parking lot to the stairs that lead to the boardwalk. Hoping in my mind that I could get over my ordeal.

* * *

I sat at the edge of the boardwalk scooping the chocolate, vanilla ice cream sundae. My hair flowing in the ocean breeze. I was happy, and no longer felt like complete crap.
I breathed in deeply, as the cream melted in my mouth, leaving a smooth aftertaste.

I had had lunch at the The Pearl, rice and pink salmon with a glass of French wine(I have my friends). After that I played some games in the arcade then sauntered down the rest of the boardwalk all the way to the parlor. By the time I arrived here to the place I am now, my mind was completely clear and I was feeling so much better.

Now, I was plotting my revenge for Diana, I was going to kill her. She was the cause of all this shit that's happening. If it wasn't for her Jackson wouldn't even spawn the fucking balls to pull the stunt he did at the party.

There was so many things I wanted to do to her. But only one thing that would truly work. Ruining her name.

If it's not too nasty already. . .

I laughed to myself as I scooped up some more ice cream.

Suddenly my phone buzzed. I wonder who could be texting me at this point in time.

I pulled out my phone I scrolled down the notification panel. Placing another spoon of ice cream in my mouth I read the message.

Zoe: Zana come over ASAP! I have something to show you!

I found that strange, Zoey wouldn't call me at all during the weekends unless it was an emergency, where as Zada calls all the fucking time. I raised my brow, sighed and stood up. Guess I'd finish my ice cream on the way to the car.

On the way to the car so many possibilities and situations were swirling through my mind on why the in the hell Zoey texted me. But, one of the rules we set up in the Z squad was, 'always answer a text no matter who vague, bogeys or ridiculous it was.' We always keep the rules in mind and never broke them.

I never thought we would. We trusted each other too much.

* * *

The drive to Zoey's house was about half an hour. All the way there I was racking my brain on what she wanted. She was so changeable and unpredictable. We never knew what she was up too, how she really felt and what was in her head. But that's what we love about Zoey. Her unpredictability, her stubbornness, her witty, sassy sarcastic comments, that what made Zoey, Zoey.

I finally pulled up to her house, parking the car I hopped out of it and walked up the driveway to the front door. My hair had moved to the back of me because of the wind that moved through the car as I drived. Convertible hair.

I raised my hands to knock the on the door with a high smile on my face, but my smile quickly faded because as I touched the door it opened and my eyes feel upon a trail of dark red blood.

My breath caught and my heart began to race. My vision began to blur badly. I pushed on the door, opening it wider as I ventured inside. I looked around to make sure no one was there then I looked down at the floor to keep following the trail.

I slowly followed the trail to the upstairs of the house. It looked smeared, like something or someone was dragged and left it behind them.

My heart raced even faster as I walked up the stairs, my eyes fixed on the blood trail before me. Endless scenarios ran through my head of why there was blood on the floor.

A bad cut. . . .

A prank. . .

A really bad fight. . .

A ritual. . .

Period blood. . .

As I cleared the stairs to the other living room, I felt the eerily, I slowly turned to the couch that faced me.

There passed out, her shirt ripped with blood all over it, was Zoey. Deep wounds were visible under the rips in her shirt. Blood was dripping from it onto the couch and then the floor.

I froze, my hand already blocking my mouth. Tears began to sting my eyes.

Eventually my feet sprang into action and I ran to Zoey's side. I sat down on the couch and placed her head in her my and placed my other hands on the biggest wound.

"Zoey?" I whispered.

No answer.

With my index and middle finger pressed to her neck and then wrist I felt her pulse. It was weak but it was there.

I held her closely, my eyes starting to pour water out of them. As I did I tried to take my phone out of my pocket to call 911. I couldn't even hold the phone I was shaking so much. This never happened to me. So afraid, helpless and guilty. Never once, but seeing a good friend in danger. My best friend.
I'm lost. . . .

With great difficult I finally dialed the number and placed it on speaker.

"911 what's your emergency?" the operator asks monotonously.

"Help. . .my best friend, she's been stabbed-"

"Ma'am-"

"-She lost a lot of blood, s-she dying help-"

"What's your address?"

"I'm a-t 567 waterside road, please hurry," I whisper the end then started to sob.

"Ma'am don't worry I'll stay on your line until the paramedics arrives."

The operator began to talk to me, trying to calm me down, but I the sound of her voice faded out and became white noise. My eyes drifted to Zoey's face and it stayed there, I just stared.

Please make it . . .I'm so sorry. . .. .