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Tuesday, June 23

My name? Amelia. Amelia Catherine Menke. But everyone calls me Ame. I'm writing this story because I feel like I have to put it down somewhere. I couldn't actually tell anyone. No one would believe me. But, to whoever is reading this, this entire story is true. I was there. Elizabeth was my best friend and I have to honor her, even if she wasn't such a good girl in the end... Anyway, it started two years ago, to the day. Elizabeth and I were planning for the masquerade ball out school was holding in the fall. Liz, as I liked to call her, was nice and caring. She liked drawing, doing some kind of craft or another, mainly sewing costumes and making accessories, and reading. Liz loved music too, usually mouthing the words to a song in her head or humming. But she had a dark side too.

She usually wore a green hoodie. Why? Elizabeth was a bit...different. Her arms were covered in self inflicted wounds. How do I know? We were best friends. I found out at a sleepover after she changed into her nightshirt and fuzzy pants. I questioned her a bit before getting the simple answer of: "A knife." It didn't take me long to piece together what she was saying. I'm very smart anyway. But not smart enough to realize that her mental state was deteriorating. Sadly, I found out too late. It was during the masquerade ball. Liz's nickname during the ball was simply Blue Hawk. Mine was White Tiger because that is what my costume was modeled after. Hers was modeled after, well, a pale blue hawk with golden markings. The self proclaimed "queen of the school," Claire Wilest, was being her normal self, a complete bitch.

After a while of Liz and I having to sit through Claire's shit, we walked off together for a refreshment. The part had been going well so far. Liz was fine...or so I thought. I'm still unsure of how I missed the fact that her father abused and neglected her. There wasn't food at her house sometimes and usually went to mine when that happened. My parents, who had taken the job of raising her after her mom died, always let her in and let her stay whenever.

Back to the masquerade ball. Anyway, she started having this weird twitch, occasionally clenching her fists in anger. I truly didn't give it much thought at the time, I thought she was just mad at Claire. Later that same night, after she went home it seemed like everything was fine. Until I heard screams of pain from Liz's house; we were next door neighbors. I rushed over to find Elizabeth crumpled up on the floor, wounds on her face and bruises on her body in many places. She was crying and spitting up blood, unable to move. I quickly called the ambulance and had her taken to the hospital. I stayed with her, my parents would understand, for the rest of the night and for the next few weeks. She explained the next day that her father had attacked her, verbally and physically and she wanted to stay with me until she went to college. Now, since we were seventeen, college wasn't that far off so I asked my parents if she could stay. Honestly, it took no convincing. They said yes right off the bat. I was quite surprised but Liz was overjoyed, doing one thing I thought she might never do again after what happened when we were ten; she gave me a tight hug, the kind of hug that is reserved for family members. I hugged her back, before you say I was a jerk and pushed her away.

After a few weeks of Liz being stuck in the hospital, she came back to my house and began to slowly move her belongings there. She avoided her father, preferring to move her stuff while he's out doing....whatever he does.

After a month, all of her stuff was in my house and we were living happily. But something inside of Elizabeth had snapped because I came home from an errand for my mom one day to find out that Liz had left, going to take care of "unfinished business." I was genuinely worried about my friend but tried not to let it bother me too much. Soon enough though, police sirens could be heard from the street and I rushed outside to find them around Liz's house. I was confused for a bit before noticing Liz race out the back door towards the woods with her blue hawk mask on and her green hoodie stained with blood.

A day after, she came back to see me, telling me to join her in her murdering spree which I politely declined. She just walked away and I never heard from her again after that. However, I did hear news stories on the television about some teenage serial killer and instantly knew it was her. One story said that the teen, Liz, is thought to be dead now because of a fire that she had started after a killing. She hasn't been seen since, though there is the occasional murder now and then. That is not my friend's doing. I can tell.

Description

Tuesday, June 23

My name? Amelia. Amelia Catherine Menke. But everyone calls me Ame. I'm writing this story because I feel like I have to put it down somewhere. I couldn't actually tell anyone. No one would believe me. But, to whoever is reading this, this entire story is true. I was there. Elizabeth was my best friend and I have to honor her, even if she wasn't such a good girl in the end... Anyway, it started two years ago, to the day. Elizabeth and I were planning for the masquerade ball out school was holding in the fall. Liz, as I liked to call her, was nice and caring. She liked drawing, doing some kind of craft or another, mainly sewing costumes and making accessories, and reading. Liz loved music too, usually mouthing the words to a song in her head or humming. But she had a dark side too.

She usually wore a green hoodie. Why? Elizabeth was a bit...different. Her arms were covered in self inflicted wounds. How do I know? We were best friends. I found out at a sleepover after she changed into her nightshirt and fuzzy pants. I questioned her a bit before getting the simple answer of: "A knife." It didn't take me long to piece together what she was saying. I'm very smart anyway. But not smart enough to realize that her mental state was deteriorating. Sadly, I found out too late. It was during the masquerade ball. Liz's nickname during the ball was simply Blue Hawk. Mine was White Tiger because that is what my costume was modeled after. Hers was modeled after, well, a pale blue hawk with golden markings. The self proclaimed "queen of the school," Claire Wilest, was being her normal self, a complete bitch.

After a while of Liz and I having to sit through Claire's shit, we walked off together for a refreshment. The part had been going well so far. Liz was fine...or so I thought. I'm still unsure of how I missed the fact that her father abused and neglected her. There wasn't food at her house sometimes and usually went to mine when that happened. My parents, who had taken the job of raising her after her mom died, always let her in and let her stay whenever.

Back to the masquerade ball. Anyway, she started having this weird twitch, occasionally clenching her fists in anger. I truly didn't give it much thought at the time, I thought she was just mad at Claire. Later that same night, after she went home it seemed like everything was fine. Until I heard screams of pain from Liz's house; we were next door neighbors. I rushed over to find Elizabeth crumpled up on the floor, wounds on her face and bruises on her body in many places. She was crying and spitting up blood, unable to move. I quickly called the ambulance and had her taken to the hospital. I stayed with her, my parents would understand, for the rest of the night and for the next few weeks. She explained the next day that her father had attacked her, verbally and physically and she wanted to stay with me until she went to college. Now, since we were seventeen, college wasn't that far off so I asked my parents if she could stay. Honestly, it took no convincing. They said yes right off the bat. I was quite surprised but Liz was overjoyed, doing one thing I thought she might never do again after what happened when we were ten; she gave me a tight hug, the kind of hug that is reserved for family members. I hugged her back, before you say I was a jerk and pushed her away.

After a few weeks of Liz being stuck in the hospital, she came back to my house and began to slowly move her belongings there. She avoided her father, preferring to move her stuff while he's out doing....whatever he does.

After a month, all of her stuff was in my house and we were living happily. But something inside of Elizabeth had snapped because I came home from an errand for my mom one day to find out that Liz had left, going to take care of "unfinished business." I was genuinely worried about my friend but tried not to let it bother me too much. Soon enough though, police sirens could be heard from the street and I rushed outside to find them around Liz's house. I was confused for a bit before noticing Liz race out the back door towards the woods with her blue hawk mask on and her green hoodie stained with blood.

A day after, she came back to see me, telling me to join her in her murdering spree which I politely declined. She just walked away and I never heard from her again after that. However, I did hear news stories on the television about some teenage serial killer and instantly knew it was her. One story said that the teen, Liz, is thought to be dead now because of a fire that she had started after a killing. She hasn't been seen since, though there is the occasional murder now and then. That is not my friend's doing. I can tell.