Hello. <br />My name is Anani. <br />Anani Moss. <br />I am 17 years old. Senior. <br />Tuesday in November. <br />Band practice, leaving. Around six. <br />My mother: I'll be there when you get out. <br />No sight of her around back. <br />Went up front. <br />Nobody there. Sat on the steps. <br />Waited. <br />Seven-thirty. <br />Dark. <br />Headlights? <br />I recognize the car. <br />The window rolls down. <br />My boyfriend's father: Your mother called. Told me to uh, pick you up. <br />Think. <br />I get in. <br />Something isn't right. <br />Me: That's not the way to my house. <br />He stops the car. <br />Abandoned parking lot. <br />My boyfriend's father: Take this. <br />Pretty pink pill. <br />Why is he looking at me like that? <br />Reaching for me. <br />I get out. Run. <br />The car starts. <br />End of the alley. Brick wall. <br />He gets out. Gun. Grabs me. <br />Ripped my clothes. <br />I can't move. <br />Blood rushing from my head. <br />Cold concrete below my face. <br />Fade to white. <br />My name was Anani. <br />Anani Moss. <br />I was 17 years old. <br />The night I died.<br /><br />Amber Evans<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/anani-moss/
