Dirty Diana

At sixteen, I felt I would always be a misfit.

Popularity had eluded me, and I was pretty much a loner by choice. My world existed on the internet; gaming, and chat rooms were my escape, because there, my anonymity was my shield.

Known by my handle, D-10, I fit in with the others, and met some phenomenal virtual friends. One special friend in fact was Dastardly Damned. We clicked. We gamed online, and finally we made plans to meet at a local hangout.

Only I never saw his face.

I never saw what was coming.

My life would never be the same.

And Dastardly Damned would pay...

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Hljóðbók: 26 september 2024