My hand fell from the gash on my eyebrow to my ripped jeans, blood dripping down to the ground. My legs begin to go numb. My vision is going black. I hit the ground. Hard. 

All of my life I have been a lover girl. I have always dreamed of unconditional love, having a huge wedding, and a great family. But as I grow older, this dream becomes less of a reality. My name is Emma Greenshield and I am 19 years old. I am currently in college at Penn State for a nursing degree. Growing up, I always dreamed of going to a big school and having a big group of friends, and hopefully a boyfriend. All of these dreams are coming true, except for the boyfriend one. I am loving this school, gettings all A’s and B’s, and my friends are the best. Right now, I am doing good. 

Since the age of 1, my parents have given me the best life I could have ever imagined. “Emma, we love you so much.” That is what they always told me. “Be careful honey.” That is what they said before I left the house. They protected me, maybe a little too much. My dad never let me date. 

“You must wait until you’re 21.” “They are just going to hurt you.” “You are fine by yourself.” These are all the excuses he gave me. But, that never changed my dreams. I kept a journal writing about everything I wanted in my future husband, it still lives in my dorm. Remembering these special memories I go to dig it up. The front page is covered in hearts cut out from TeenVogue and Seventeen, pictures of a girl's dreamiest guy, Justin Bieber, and Harry Styles. Opening to the first page I see, 

All of the things Emma Greenshield wants in a guy. 

1.Long flowy brown hair

2. Vibrant green eyes

3. A charming smile with white shiny teeth

And the list went on for pages upon pages. Looking back at this journal makes me sad. When I was a child, things were so much simpler. I did not have to worry about getting a job and finding the love of my life, I was always happy and got excited over the little things. Putting the journal to the side, I decide to go for lunch at the dining hall. I throw on some flare leggings and a blue crew neck with my white converse. I grab my wallet and phone and head out of my dorm.

I grab some food and see some friends so I sit down with them. “What are you guys doing tonight?” I say.

“I think I am going to a frat party, does anyone want to come?” My friend Lily says. 

I am not the biggest fan of frat parties, since I have had a few bad experiences with them, but I decided to say yes anyway because I do not have any plans. I would consider myself pretty social, so I like going out with my friends and meeting new people. 

A few hours have passed since I was at lunch with my friends, it’s now 6:00 pm. I decide to start getting ready to go out. I start by curling my hair, then I do my makeup and lastly, change into black jeans and a pink crop top. While I am adding the finishing touches, my roommate, Lexie, starts talking to me. 

“Do you think there will be any cute boys there tonight?” she asks me. 

I respond, “Definitely not, all of the frat boys are sweaty and gross.” When I first went to frat parties, I would always hope some cute boys would be there, but eventually, I realized that these dreams would never happen. They seem to all be either sweaty, musty, or just not cute. But I add, “We can always hope I guess, but my expectations are very low.”

“Yeah you are probably right,” she says, “Lily said she’s ready so we can meet her outside.”

We begin walking to the frat house where the party is having a great time. We are all laughing over past experiences we’ve has with frat boys, all terrible but funny to look back on. “One time a boy came over to me and the first thing he said to me was, “If you were a vegetable, you’d be a cutecumber!” We all begin hysterically laughing. 

“Who even thinks that is a good pick-up line?” Lexie says.

Lily asks, “How did you even respond to that?”

“I did not even know what to say, I just started laughing at how bad it was and walked away.” We continue to tell funny stories until we get there. Once we arrive at the party there are already so many people there. People are flowing out of the house into the front and back yard, and the music is so loud you can hear it from the outside. The guy at the door looks us up and down, which I find very weird, but then he lets us in. Lexie grabs my hand and brings us over to the drinks and pours us something to drink. We start to walk around and talk to different people. 

Eventually, I lose her in the crowd and begin dancing in the living room. I throw my arms into the air and begin spinning in circles. I climb onto the coffee table and begin dancing up there. Everyone is looking at me and chanting for me. My vision at this point is not great, but I spot this guy in the corner. At first, I thought I was imagining him so I get off the table and take a closer look. Surprisingly I was not imagining this. I see a man leaning up against the door frame across the room. He has dark tanned skin, and luscious brown flowing hair, and I can see his beautiful smile as he caught me looking at him. I don’t think I can walk that far so I sit down on the couch and hope he comes to me instead. I close my eyes for a second and when I open them he has sat down next to me. I get so excited. 

He says to me, “Hi, I am Joseph.” That was the best pickup line I have ever heard.

I try to respond, “H-h-h-i, my n-name i-i-s Emma.” I might have even said the wrong name I am so out of it. We sit there talking for who knows how long, it could have been 5 minutes or 2 hours, but I loved every minute of it.

 After some time, he says, “Do you want me to walk you home?”

Of course, I am over to the moon and want to say yes a thousand times but I know I can’t seem too eager so I go with, “Only if you want to.” 

He begins to get me up from the couch and holds my hand as we leave the frat house. When we are outside I realize how chilly it is and I did not bring a jacket. He offers me his flannel, and I take it with no hesitation. This guy is the one I have always dreamed of. He has all the things I listed in my journal as a young teenager and more. The conversations have not stopped from the moment he said hi to me. We went from talking about our degrees to our future professions to the number of kids we want when we grow up. Everything is perfect. 

On our walk to my dorm, he begins asking me some more questions. He says, “Do you have any roommates, are they home right now?” “Does your dorm allow guests at night?” And some other odd ones. But I try to ignore the red flags in my mind because he is just perfect. He stops in the middle of the walking path and turns me to face him. He begins naming features about me. “Your hair looks so blonde and reminds me of a golden retriever, those gorgeous blue eyes that make me feel like I am looking at the ocean, your perfectly smooth skin,” and he keeps going as he caresses my arm. “The way your shirt sits perfectly around your body…” He keeps going on and on as I begin to get more creeped out. I come out of my daze at this beautiful man and realize something is not right. He steps closer to me and puts his left hand on my cheek, brushing his thumb over my lip. His right hand is in his jean pocket. He pulls his hand out of his pocket and I notice something is in it but I can not make out what it is. I am looking into his eyes and he brings his right hand to my face. I finally am looking close enough to notice his eyes are bright vibrant green. It’s a knife. He cuts my eyebrow, then my shoulder, down to my leg. My hand reaches up to the gash on my eyebrow to my ripped jeans, as the blood drips down to the ground. My legs begin to go numb. My vision is going black. I hit the ground. Hard.