I Once Was Innocent

The day I died inside, was the day they attacked me. I was walking home from my best friend's house, on a late November night, when I was trying to beat curfew. As I was taking the shortcut through the alley like I have done millions of times before, I felt something different in the air. I threw it off as my superstition. I just didn't want to be grounded. I wouldn't be able to go to the Winter Formal like I begged my parents if I was late, so I took a deep breath and walked fast. As I neared the point where I cut through an old house's yard, a group of men rounded the corner. That was when I knew that I should have chosen to be late.

Four hours later, it had started to snow, and I swore I was on my way to dying. They had left me broken, bruised, and they took my innocence. As I began to slip away into nothing, a man letting his dog out for the final time that night heard the barking and came to investigate. He seen me and screamed for his wife to call the police. Knowing my parents would never take me the way I was, I prayed that I was died before they found out.