Who's That Girl

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: April 07, 2018

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Submitted: April 07, 2018



Who's That Girl?

I was a loner, a very private person. I didn't talk much about myself to others except to a very few people that I was comfortable with. An enigma they called me, but yes I had to agree with that. I had trust issues because I had been betrayed before. People used my story as a weapon to attack my life. It ruined my pride and stained my dignity with humiliation. I lived in rejection and I found my peace within my isolation. I chose to be silent until the day my voice had been ripped out when my lifeless body was found in a big drain outside the town. And this is my story.....

My name was Jessabelle. Wicked yes, but that was given by my mother. I got teased a lot in school. People called me names, some of them even called me devil. I cried all the time. I remembered, I told my mother that people were teasing me because of my name and all I did was just brought a monster in her to life. I was beaten, and she yelled on top of her lungs that I was ungrateful. I was six by that time.

My dad passed away when I was seven years old. I couldn't remember much about him because he was seldom home. Most of the times it was just me and my mother. I didn't even know why he passed away but my gut was telling me that my mother had something to do with his death.

My mother got married again when I was nine years old. Greg is his name and he moved in with us, brought along his two kids. A daughter, Christina, 10 years old and a son, Nate 13 years old. Suddenly I felt like I was a stepdaughter to my mother because she always put them as her first priority. I was treated like a maid in the house. I had to do all the chores and even prepared breakfast for them.

When I was 11 years old, I started to feel really uncomfortable with Greg. He gave me this creepy stare whenever my mother was not around. He spanked my butt once when I was doing the dishes. I jumped in shock because I thought it was a punishment since I was being abused by him and my mother. But he never spanked me like that before. It was not hard.

One night, I was asleep in my room. Suddenly I felt a hand on my thigh. In shock, I woke up and tried to scream but Greg closed my mouth with his palm. That night, he took away my virginity in a gruesome way. I was 11 years old and I didn't know what was happening to me. All I knew, it hurt so bad and I couldn't walk at all. The next day I remembered my mom was kicking me off the bed, asked me to do chores.

He raped me again and again. It affected my emotion badly. I cried all the time, I couldn't focus on my study. One day, Ms. Wilkin, my classroom teacher asked me to meet her after school. And so I did. She asked me about the change in me. I cried and I told her what Greg did to me. I remembered her mouth was wide open when I told her every detail about what Greg had done to me. The next day the police were knocking at my door. They took Greg away but that night I was beaten pretty bad by my mother. She didn't believe me at all and called me liar. She asked me to drop the charges and I did to stop the torture. Greg was released and the shameful incident continue with additional character in the drama and that was his son, Nate. I moved out from the house when I was 17 to live with my troubled boyfriend.

I met my boyfriend Tristan when I was 16 and he was 18. He was a goth and so was I. I was attracted to his dark side. He had an abusive history like mine and we had so much in common. He was my best friend. Often I told him about Greg and Nate and often I would spend my time with him. I skipped school just to be with him. He introduced me to alcohol and weeds and soon I became an addict to both substances. And by 17, I moved in to his house.

Our relationship was volatile. He had his temper where he would hit me whenever I did wrong. He was possessive and his jealousy was the main reason we would fight all the time. We would fight and that involved punches, scratches, kicking and even a threat with a gun but we would always come back together like nothing ever happened within a few days.

When I reached 18, I got myself a job as a waitress in a bar nearby. At this point I had no contact at all with my family. I was on my own until one day Nate came into a bar where I was working. I was trying to get away from him but he noticed me. How could he forget a girl he raped a few years ago. Soon, he became frequently visited the bar and each visit he would harass me in a possible way he could.

Tristan saw the harassment once and they got into a fight. Both were in jail for overnight but the flame of hatred never stopped there. Nate would find a way to harass me and that would make Tristan angrier. Tristan asked me to quit my job since he hated to see Nate with me. We fought a lot about Nate though it was not my fault. Tristan would use me as his punching bag for his anger towards Nate.

I ran to a friend's house one night. I couldn't take his torture anymore. But after a few days there, I returned back to him after he begged me over and over to come home. I knew I was stupid but I only had him at that time. I had nobody else and with Nate came into a picture, I certainly needed him around to protect me.

I was in a car with Tristan headed to his friend's place. We were out of weeds supply. As he was driving and focusing on the road, I saw Nate's car from behind. He was following us. I told Tristan about it and he glanced a bit in a mirror. He then slowing down the car and made a turn to an alley, certainly not headed to his friend's place. I just kept my mouth shut knowing that Tristan was angry.

He then pulled over by the roadside. It was a secluded area and no one was there. Nate pulled over too. Tristan got out from the car to confront Nate. He told me to stay in a car. I just nodded and I had no intention to come out from the car.

From inside the car I saw Tristan and Nate were talking. Then I heard yelling. Nate started to shove Tristan and things were getting physical. I saw Tristan punched Nate on his face and Nate was groaning in pain. Nate then kicked Tristan on the stomach and Tristan fell off to the ground.

I saw Nate took out a gun from his jacket and that's when I got out from the car. I ran towards him to stop him from shooting. But Tristan didn't saw me coming and he pulled the trigger. So did Nate. The bullets hit me in the chest. Front and back from Nate and Tristan. I heard Tristan was screaming my name. But it was too late. I fell to the ground then I was floating in the air. I could see Tristan held my body, he shook me but I was never going to wake up.

He put the blame on Nate. But Nate reminded him that it was his bullet too inside my chest. In panic, he asked Nate what should they do. Nate was scratching his head, looking for ideas. He then told Tristan to dump my body in a drain by the roadside. They then rolled my body into the drain. Tristan was crying and he sat by the drain for a while. He kept saying he's sorry. But everything was too late. I was gone. Nate took off and left Tristan alone. Soon, Tristan took off too leaving my body, his girlfriend inside the drain.

The police found my body the next day. They couldn't identify me because I had no identification card or license with me. I never brought those cards though. It was just me; the way I was. They pulled my body out from the drain after they had collected evidence around the drain. My body was soaked and they knew the cause of dead was being shot to the chest, twice.

Back in the coroner office, they were trying so hard to identify me. They took my prints but nothing came up. Of course, I just learned that I was adopted and no proper documentation was made. Floated in the space, I could see how they pried open my lifeless body. I tried to scream but no one could hear me.

For weeks, they were trying to solve my murder. They were trying so hard to identify me as well as looking for my killer. They knew there were two people who shot me because they found two bullets from two different guns. But who and why I was killed, still a big question.

Finally, the case went cold and I was buried as Jane Doe since no one reported I was missing and they were unable to identify me. They didn't even know my age only concluded that I was between 18 to 20 years old.  And here I was laid to rest with no name written on my tombstone. I was destined to be forgotten. And this is my story, a forsaken child until my last breath.


The End

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