I know who murdered me, and soon you will too.
My hands were freezing, my body laid there in the stained snow.
I know who killed me.
My lips were turning a shade of purple, and my body turning pale.
My breath getting shorter for every breath I took, my heart throbbing with pain.
I know who murdered me on that snowy white night.
A slender tall fellow, with shiny green eyes with a cold looking stare in them.
His blonde hair which the moon reflected off, he grabbed me and I never saw anyone but him at the end.
He pushed me in his car, and then drove quickly to the woods to where I would die.
Perhaps you know who?
He raced, carrying me into the woods with him to the spot where I was dying and laid me down.
He then shot me three times once in my head, twice in my heart, then ripped my clothes off of me till I was completely bare.
My body trembling, underneath of him, while I was dying.
He had given me all the slight warnings with the love letters I turned him down a couple of times too.
He showed me no love like he told me that he did, but yet he murdered me.
You now know who killed me.