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15 years

Mike Platt and Jordan Hunt had been a couple since the sixth grade. Although they were the average high school sweethearts, they had a relationship everyone dreamed of having. They never fought, and they acted like best friends. Their relationship soon hit a dead end when Jordan’s father was offered a well paying job in Germany.

Mike was just a normal sixteen year old boy. He had beautiful, brown eyes and long, dark hair. He stood about five feet, eight inches and had the body of an athlete. He always seemed to wear his heart on his sleeve, and it seemed as if his emotions were written across his face. He always smelt of Adidas cologne, and he always wore Areopostale. Mike was one who liked to argue, and he never ran out of sarcastic statements.

Mike and Jordan wrote letters to each other every six months. Jordan had soon graduated from high school, and began thinking about surprising Mike with a visit back to New York. So, she threw up her long, black hair and began to pack up her things.

She started her journey on a grey, dreary day. She landed in New York on a cold, rainy Friday. When she arrived at her hotel, she sat down with the weekly newspaper. When she finally got relaxed, she noticed an article about a terrible car accident that had happened that Tuesday. There were two victims; one had suffered from five broken ribs. The other had been killed on impact, Mike Platt.

Jordan couldn’t believe what she was reading. She saw the room turn black. All the memories of her and Mike flashed through her head. She hadn’t noticed, but silver streams had leaked out of the corners of her eyes. She could hear her heart breaking; she was able to feel her throat tightening. It was nearly impossible for Jordan to breathe. She hadn’t remembered when, but the world turned white.

Jordan woke up feeling a sharp pain in her side; she must’ve had a panic attack. She couldn’t accept the fact that the love of her life was gone, never to return. She spent hours thinking about the plans they had to get married, and raise a family. She didn’t understand why karma had taken its toll on Mike’s life. Mike was a sweet boy; she was oblivious to the fact that it could’ve just been bad luck.

She stopped at an auto-shop that Mike’s father had owned. She asked to see the damaged car, and her request was granted. She attempted to open the driver’s door, and the door had given in on the third tug. The first thing she did was remove the shark necklace Mike had kept on the rear-view mirror. She placed the item in the front pocket of her jeans, and continued her search. She took one last glance around the vehicle, and noticed something odd about the brake pedal.

The pedal was slanted. Jordan had thought maybe it was moved on impact, but she got curious. She leaned down and tried pushing it inwards. When the pedal wouldn’t move, she tried removing it. The pedal came off with little effort. Jordan realized that the silver spring that had originally been there was missing. With no spring, the pedal wouldn’t move unless there was an extreme amount of force.

Mike wasn’t the type of guy to drive with a car issue; he always made sure his car was in top shape. It didn’t feel right, and none of this makes sense. This couldn’t of had been an accident. She didn’t have the proof, but she had the feeling in the pit of her stomach that this was planned. This was a set-up. This was murder.





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