If remember correctly, it was my first year in Fulton. I attended a school called FairGraive if I remember the spelling. It was 7th grade and I was enjoying myself meeting all the new people. I thought I had introduced myself to everyone when an unfamiliar girl appeared, alone by the girls room.
I walked over and she stared at me. "Heyah! My name's Jules. And yours?" She continued to stare. Now me, I'm a joker. I'm a girl, but I hang out with boys mostly cause of my strong dislike for girlie drama. At the time, I had one best friend named Bridget.
She attended FairGraive also, maybe that's why I was so outgoing there. "Uhmm...okay then Ms.Silent." After that I held out my hand to shake hands. She took a look and laughed a short *Heh*. "Youngling, your hands are full of despicable germs that may cause illness. And I rather not get dirt on my vintage shirt!" She snapped.
"Well excuse me..." I said being a little childish. "But as far as I know, you are the youngling, what ever the heck that is. You're a sixth grader, am I wrong?"
She smiled and skipped down the hall. Her style was a little 50's if you ask me. She wore a white vintage blouse and a long ruffled skirt with a white poodle on it. She wore her hair in a ponytail, no longer than shoulder length. I went over to Bridget at lunch. "Bridge, who the heck is Holly Lettzworth?" I had asked the teacher her name in ELA, since she sat not to far from me in my class.
She laughed. That's Holly, Little Miss Perfect. She's so uptight! I'd hate to be her." Holly, who was at the third table, stared at Bridget. She was still talking about how *ugly* and every other name she could call Holly. "Bridge, I think you should just leave it alone." I said a bit worried at Holly's killer stare.
"Why, whats she gunna do? Snap me with her hairtie? Dudet! She's like WEAK! Look at her snappy little arms. The chick can probably barley hold her books." To be honest, I felt a little bad for Holly. Yes, she had an attitude, but don't we all?
I looked over towards Holly. Her face was beet red. Bridget kept talking just the same. "Bridge?" I asked...Holly's face kept getting brighter red. "BRIDGE!" I half yelled. "Shut it Jules, wait! L-M-A-O! Holly needs a short trip to a little something called the MALL! Where normal people shop." I could swear Holly's face was about to explode when she let out a horrible sounding shriek.
She next lunged at Bridget, grabbing hold of her neck. Bridget, still laughing, choked. Four teachers had to pull of Holly. She was suspended for five days. Bridge was fine and went home early.
When I got home I went directly to my computer. I logged on as MzCookiez. Then I logged on to my facebook account. Bridget had updated. Her status said "Wow, dis chick is crazy! gota admit she has a hold for a tiny tot 6th grader! LMAO...she was sooooo weak. Still laughing >.<" and an account just wrote 2 seconds ago. From Anonymous. *It's okay, I'm sure she will get you back! AGAIN! Better hide under your bed little girl! LOL"
I set my status to Annoyed 0.o and was about to log out when the person named Anonymous added me. Our conversation:
A:Hello
J:Uh? Hey :D
A: She going to die.
J:Uh??? Whom? and who is this?
A: No one. I'm upstairs in her home.
J: In who's?
A: Downstairs.
J: Umm?
A:By her door.
J: Dude/et. Please don't harm Bridget! Is this Holly? C'mon! She was being a child.
A: Yes she was a very very bad girl. For that she will pay. You will not, for you did no harm to me. At her bed...
J: OMGOSH!
A: Shes dead xD
At the same time, I received 4 messages from Bridget.
"Help" they all said.
The next day was Saturday. It was a slow day so I tried to call Bridge, thinking some chick was playing a prank with the Holly thing. No answer. I walked over to her house and it was full of police.
They told me to go home right away, for they didn't know where the murderer was. They said to lock my doors and windows and close all the curtains. I did.
The next day I awoke with a note on my dresser along with a newspaper. The note said "My business is done. Read the paper. Keep this to yourself or suffer the way she did."
I looked at the newspaper. "Headline:
Girl murdered, no means of how, or who did it. Her neck was sliced, leaving no clear evidence of the weapon, but we believe it was a 34/80 knife. Her skin was gnawed at and her body clawed in numerous places".
There was more, but I dared not read it further. I cried for two full hours. The clock ticked 8:00 A.M., then I ran and tore up the note, so my mother would never find it. I didn't want to end up like Bridget. I warned her. I did.
