*September 12, 2014*
The blood on the knife glimmered in the pale moonlight. The body laid on the ground, his eyes staring at me with a deep cerulean blue. This was him, her first one, and certainly not her last.
*September 5, 2014*
Carrie Ross sat at her lunch table, with her talkative friends. Carrie was staring at a boy. But not because he was handsome, or for his athletic ability. He was the one. The first boy she would ever kill, and he was right in front of her. His name was David Astin. Her friend, Nora, saw her staring.
"Hello? Earth to Carrie?"
She snapped back into consciousness.
'What? Oh sorry, I was just-"
"I know, I know, you were checking out that boy over.'
"Oh shut up, Nora." Carrie snapped.
"Hey, why so tense?'
"Noth-"
The bell rang just in time. Carrie scooted off to AP History.
*September 8, 2014*
Carrie stood in line. David was right next to her, looking at which kind of chips he should buy. Carrie accidentally spilled her milk on the backside of David.
"Oh my gosh. I'm so sorry.'
"It's fine, I think I'm gonna make it." He said as he dried his clothes.
"I hope so."
"Hey, you're that Carrie girl, I've seen you in AP history."
"In the flesh."
Carrie and David started talking, exactly what she wanted. To David, she looked innocent, almost helpless.
'Talk to me later." David slid his number to her.
"Yeah, will do."
Carrie got home and ran to her room. She opened her closet door and took out a wooden box buried beneath the floorboards. Inside she looked at the several video tapes and notes left for her. She found the phone number, the one that did not belong to David. (555)-823-5224.
The phone rang precisely 3 times, and an old voice answered.
"The boy is in my hands, I've got him." Carrie spoke. The line clicked off.
