After school, I didn't go to the hill with Jerry like I usually did. I went home. But not to just waste time thinking, to research something.

I turned on my iMac and waited. Then clicking on the internet and Google typed in two simple words.

Ally Prior

A pretty name. A name I was jealous of. I scrolled down. Page after page was about this girl, "A girl has died on-" "Ally prior, a lovely girl-" "at a subway station-" "January 18th-" "she didn't deserve to die-" I stared at the computer screen in shock. 

Pages after pages about her death. Thousands. She was just like me. A teenage girl, my age, dead. She didn't deserve that! No-one deserved that! I yelled in frustration and banged my computer desk with my fists, running down stairs and slamming the front door behind me. 

Why I was doing this, I didn't know. But I ran all the way to the station and stood there. I saw my teacher, waiting for a train. I saw occasional glances from adults wondering why I had just ran here. The next train wasn't for another 10 minutes. I sat down on a metal seat.

Why are you here? What are you doing? I asked myself. 

I'm trying to find the person that killed Ally Prior. 

The End

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