//EDITED//

I hate feeling weak.

I hate feeling scared as shit.

I hate feeling so damn sad.

I hate... feeling so damn much.

Why do humans even have feelings? Feelings and emotions are just bullshit. My life is so messed up and it has been for years. I tried to pick up the broken pieces but in reality, all I have been doing is hiding them. I am a girl with a fucking messed up past. My parents died when I was ten, and the most heartbreaking part was that I never saw their bodies. The police said they were hit by a speeding car and it caused them to run over the edge of a bridge and deep into the lake. Since their bodies were never found, I can't shake this feeling that they're still alive and it bothers me so damn much.

My first foster parents thought I was insane and they wanted to send me to a mental institution. Even I thought I was crazy, and who could blame me? I was thrown into orphanages and foster homes—separated from the only person I could call mine, my brother.

The other thing that I hate, that I loathe, is the pity. Growing up, everyone looked at me like I was some kind of lost puppy. Parents kept calling me 'you poor child' and showering me with hugs. Trying to avoid the pity, I bottled up my emotions and plastered a smile on my face everywhere I went. Once Jake came of age, he got custody of me, and everything slowly started to get better. For my sixteenth birthday, he got me a camera.

"Princess you need to stop living in the past and let it go. Stop dwelling on the old memories and make new ones instead."

That's how my passion for photography and journalism started. It was my home away from home. After high school, I finished college within two years and got a job at a local newspaper company. I loved my job but it all changed when the spawn of Satan became my boss.

Words can't describe how much I loathe her. I blame her for all the wrongs that have happened to me in the past few weeks, even for me having all these flashbacks. Deep down I know that she isn't really the reason why I got into this mess, but just for my sanity I've got to blame someone. I lean against the art bench and enjoy my peaceful time here.

Leaves in different colors fly around and softly land on the ground. Footballs are thrown left and right. Kids run around trying to enjoy the outdoors before winter comes, and even a few couples are sitting on the benches. Central Park is just breathtaking, especially in the fall. I've given up trying to find the perfect story to write, and instead I've decided to just write about NYC itself. I probably won't get the promotion, but at least I will know I tried. Getting up from the bench, I start heading back home. It isn't dark yet, but I want to be back home before it is. Since the incident, I have been too scared to leave the house after six p.m.

After walking for a few minutes I realize I'm going in circles.

Great, I am lost.

Who gets lost in Central Park?!

It is slowly getting darker and I'm getting more nervous. I seriously need to find a way out of this damn place. Turning around, holding my phone as a flashlight, I start walking...somewhere.

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Oh, this is just stupid!

I plop myself on the ground in frustration—I've been walking for hours. I'm annoyed, pissed off, and tired. Covering my face with my hands, I try to compose myself.

In the middle of gathering all my shit back together, I hear engines...car engines. I do a little mini dance inside my head and practicality run to the source of the noise. All I gotta do is ask for some help and I can get the hell out of here. With a smile on my face, I reach the clearing, but as I see who is waiting there, my face drops.

Several black, expensive cars are in line, one behind the other. Men, also in black, stand around with guns. And then I see him, and my blood turns cold. The man standing at the very front.

He looks the same... a black, expensive, suit, a stony expression, and a murderous look.

What I have been fearing for the last couple of weeks has finally come true.

Standing only a few feet away from me was the man who killed that woman.

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