She Tried To Steal My Life. I Took Her Future.

The last thing I remembered was the stench of stale beer and damp asphalt, then the crunch of my own bones.

My best friend Becca, my sorority little sister, stood by, pointing, her face a mask of cold satisfaction.

She had used my ID, my photos, my name for her own sinister schemes, and it led to my brutal death in that alley by loan sharks.

Killed simply because I was too trusting, too kind, too naive to see her for what she truly was.

But then, I woke up.

The scent of lavender laundry detergent filled the air, my body was whole, no pain, no blood.