'What should be done now?' asked Ben kneeling on the wet grass with his hands soaked in blood. He was trembling with fear at the sight of blood and flesh. His white t-shirt and pale blue jeans were stained red with blood. I was standing two feet away from Ben, terrified. I was wearing a sea green dress with my hair braided neatly. The ball dropped from my hand, splashing the mud on my off-white sneakers.

The sun was setting, and Ben and I were returning after playing football in the park. Usually, we play till late, but sometimes we have to get back early to finish our homework and study for tests. Our street was half a mile from the playground, and it took us 7 minutes to walk there after crossing under a bridge.

Me and Ben were best friends and next-door neighbors and spent most of our time together. We went to the same school, played together, and did each other's homework. Ben was 12, and I was only one year older than him. I helped him with math, and he helped me with the creative part.

Ben is a sweet little guy who is also kind and innocent. He is...