Day 2,147

I met a serial killer at the bus stop when I was six and the only reason I didn't end up like the thirty other victims was because my hairband was green. Something as trivial as the colour of a small piece of rubber saved my life and made me realise that every tiny decision we make will impact our chances of coming home safe and sound.

All the other little girls he killed were eventually found with yellow hairbands to match their school dresses. It always struck me as odd that all the schools in our area had the same colour scheme as dictated by the governor's board.

When the killer was eventually revealed to be on said board, nobody was surprised. We'd all been narrowing down the options in our minds for months before the police even put two-and-two together. Personally I didn't pick the one they eventually blamed - I assumed the whole board was in on the killing and was working together.

It made more sense than a lone monster and when the killings got worse after the arrest I knew it was out of spite rather than aesthetics. When they changed the type of girl they wanted to kill I began dressing more masculine to slip under their radar.

I lost five friends before the entire board was taken in and the killings stopped altogether.

Even now I can't bring myself to wear a dress or grow my hair out.

How can I when that's what got them all killed?