Hi, I’m Paula Grimm *chuckles* what an awkward way to start this.
I’m 16 years old, and I live in Indiana. And on July 24th 2012, I died.
Now I know what you’re probably thinking, how and why did I die so young? Well, that’s why I’m doing this; to explain anything and everything you might be curious about that involves me and my death. Let’s rewind a bit, shall we?
Well for starters, I wasn’t always open to the idea that I should explain my death more so than the reports did, but I figured people would find out one way or another, and I’d rather them know the whole hearted truth instead of some bullshit story their best friends brothers cousin heard from a guy who may or may not have sat next to me in study hall. And that is a big part of me writing this.
Okay, where were we? Right the beginning.
I moved to Indiana in 2012 and must I explain how unexcited I was about it. Connecticut to Indiana in a single summer, yeah, that wasn’t easy. Now, I’ve moved before but it was always relatively small compared to this. Usually from town to town where I stayed in the same school, but this was a really big jump for me.
You would think that the entirely new girl would get a lot of attention, therefore a lot of friends, but with me, you could not be more wrong. Sure, I made a few friends here and there, but nothing really stuck. Everyone eventually got bored with me and it was onto the next. And maybe that was one of the reasons I ended up this way, but I’ll probably never know for sure.
I’ve always been a rather soft spoken girl, but since the move I tried to get out there and make myself more present, and not so easy to forget. And now, it’s unlikely anyone will forget me easily.
The first day at a new school was brutal, I cried so hard when I first got home, which I had never done before. Not a single person talked to me, not one on that first day. Maybe I would have felt better if someone did but there wasn’t really anyone until the end of the first semester. In between there were a few “hi’s” and “bye’s’ every now and again, as well as a few Facebook friend requests. But it was nothing like I had in Connecticut.
Mom worked overnight 6 days a week, so I never really got the chance to see her except on Sundays. Dad died when I was a baby, and I was an only child so I guess it’s easy to assume that I was a loner. Which under the circumstances, I was. I didn’t want to be alone, but no one really cared if I was or not, so I just stopped caring too.
But in late January, Daniel happened. And I loved him so much. He loved me and eventually we started dating. Everyone knew him and everyone liked him, why he was dating me? I still have absolutely no idea, but I am so grateful that he was. He made me ridiculously happy, and that March, he told me he loved me. We had plans to get married after college, but those were obviously shattered once my death occurred.
We were dating from January of 2011 until, well you know. My death date. I had just turned 16 and he had just turned 17 it was perfect, and I was really happy.
I have no idea how he reacted to the news of my death, but I hope he was the first one to find out outside of my family. Because *sighs* I would feel so bad if someone who barely knew me found out before him, and I knew he would feel bad about it too.
Like I said, I have no idea how he reacted but I can only imagine that the girl he loved for almost 2 years just dies, in an unnatural way. It would be hard on someone. Especially because there were no warning signs that this could possibly happen. I wasn’t deathly ill, I wasn’t suicidal, there was no one who had this big grudge against me who was so completely dangerous that they were concerned about my safety.
There were no warning signs that this could possibly happen to me. But even though, no one saw it coming, it still happened. And it’s still surprising, 2 years later. Well this could have happened to anyone, it really could have. But it happened to me. And I still have no idea why but, it did. It happened to me. Not to you, or your best friends sister, or your cousins boyfriend. It happened to me.
Mom’s job was rather demanding, sometimes she traveled and sometimes she had to work all day and night. Even the days she got off early I usually didn’t see her, I was normally asleep when she got home, and she was still asleep when I got up for school. As strange as it sounds, I didn’t really know how to interact with my own mother. Sure, I loved her with everything in me, not because it was one of those relationships where we were best friends, but I loved her because I had to. She didn’t have anything else in her life other than me and her job, so I had to try and be the perfect daughter. I got good grades for the most part (trig was my enemy in 11th grade), I didn’t get in trouble, wasn’t addicted to drugs, wasn’t pregnant, could take care of and feed myself, so I wasn’t really anything to worry about.
Even when summer started and I could stay up late and wait until she got home, I pretending I was asleep. I usually drank a bottle of whatever I could get and pulled all nighters while I was drunk. I knew if she saw me drinking or drunk, her image of me would change. I assumed that she knew I did some bad things considering I was a teenager.
Later on in July, she got called out to leave town for a few days, which wasn’t unusual for her. She’s left me alone for a few weeks before and I’ve been just fine by myself and I managed to keep busy with babysitting. I had a couple babysitting jobs here and there, but because she was always gone I had to ask the kids and their parents come to my house.
The day before she left, I got a call from a man named Steve who asked me if I could babysit his daughter for the next few days which wasn’t unusual if they had a traveling job as well, and I agreed to and he called me back with the details.
Katherine wasn’t even a year old yet, so I was waking up a few times every night to change her, rock her back to sleep, feed her, or do anything she needed me to.
But most nights I didn’t sleep at all only because I liked staying awake, and I knew I’d be up in a couple hours anyway. So I usually stayed up, watched movies and waited for Katherine to make a fuss.
So one night, around 3am I was up and watching Carrie (the original) and I heard my front door slam, I locked the inside door, but the outside door was always unlocked so I assumed it was Daniel being stupid coming to see me in the middle of the night. He did that sometimes when my mom was out of town because he only lived a block away, and his parents didn’t care what he did or when he did it.
I walked out of my room and I saw someone standing by the front door, me being the blind bat I am, not wearing my contacts, and forgetting I locked the inside door said “hey Daniel, wanna come and watch the rest of Carrie with me?” There was no answer but he started walking towards me, he was trying to be quiet, I assumed because he didn’t want to wake the baby. I started walking back into my room, and he closed the door behind him.
I then realized once he was close enough that this was not my boyfriend. This was not Daniel.
I invited an intruder further into my home, and into my bedroom. His piercing eyes looked straight at the terror in mine as he locked my bedroom door.
I don’t know if it was then, when he started getting closer, when he got on top of me, or when he started taking off his clothes that I gave up. I knew I was going to be touched by this disgusting man, raped by this disgusting man, and possibly hurt by this disgusting man. I felt myself giving up, I could feel my body going numb.
You would think when you’re in a position like that, you would try your hardest to fight for whatever you have left, but I guess sometimes, you can’t. I was paralyzed with fear, and I honestly didn’t really know what was going on. I mean I wasn’t all there, you know?
The neighbor found me the next morning when they heard ridiculously loud cries from the baby I was watching. The door was open; I was on my bed and was naked from the waist down with hand shaped bruises around my neck.
I don’t remember it hurting; I don’t remember it at all. I just remember him coming in, and forcing himself on top of me. I think the thing that bothers me most about my death, is they don’t know who it was, there was no evidence found at the scene.
I don’t know if his original plan was to kill me, or if he thought no one was home because there was no car in the driveway and just wanted to job the place. I guess no one really knows, except for him. Him and his sick, twisted mind.
Hi, I’m Paula Grimm. I’m 16 years old and I live in Indiana. And on July, 24th, 2012 I died.
I was murdered in my own home while watching the original Carrie. I’ll never have a prom, or a graduation, a wedding, or a child of my own. All because one man decided my fate, and ended my life before it even started.