Zoey Prescott and The Ghostface

Chapter 1

As I sat in the back seat of my dads beat up pickup truck, I questioned my life. My mom was murdered by a man who was never caught, and my dad had been different ever sense. My dad hardly spoke to me, but when he did I could see the pain in his eyes. Everyone always told me, before my mom was murdered, that I looked exactly like her, so my dad seemed to hate to have anything to do with me. My dad decided to move us out to Woodsboro California, where I would be held prisoner by Woodsboro High School. I've always hated school, sometimes I would envision or dream of killing everyone that went to my last school, Avery High School. In my last school, literally everyone thought I was a loser and talked about me behind my back. In school I was a loner and a loser, and in the halls I would hear people saying that I killed my mother. I later wrote in my diary the gruesome ways I would murdered them, but that's the way I survive school.
"Zoey... Zoey Prescott!" My dad called from the open window of his truck, "get out and help me unload the truck."
"Ok dad," I groaned as I opened the squeaky door to the pickup truck.
The house was a beautiful two story house with a big, green front yard, a small pond filled with fish, and a porch with a porch swing. As soon as we had piled everything in the house, my dad showed me to my room, which was upstairs, far away from his huge downstairs room.
After I had unloaded and shoved everything into my room, I got onto the old dusty computer my dad gave me. I pulled up a map of the school, which was actually pretty big. I searched for a few more hours, or until it was dark out, then decided I was really tired. I climbed into bed, anxious to get the first day of my new high school over with, and ready to dream of ways to hurt the ones that hurt me.