Bully

Bully

Christine M. Morton

Copyright © 2023 Christine M. Morton

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2023

Even if the events, places, or characters seem familiar, they are only a figment of the author’s imagination.

ISBN 979-8-88960-890-5 (pbk)

ISBN 979-8-88960-901-8 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

I'd like to dedicate this book to my dad.

After Mom became an angel in heaven, you became my rock, the one I could call when having a bad day; the one person I could count on being just as surprised as me about something in the news, even if it was just about the weather; the one person that never says no when I ask to watch your grand-dog, Shelby, or just me asking you to come over to watch scary movies with me.

You are the one person that never fails to say, I love you, almost every day before hanging up the phone. You have no idea how much this means to me.

I love when you tell me stories about your past, where you grew up, how Grandma used to get mad when you ran around outside early in the morning to pretend you were a cowboy shooting guns, when you met mom, where your first apartment was, where Aunt Joanne used to live in the apartments off French Road. Even if I heard that same story one hundred times, I enjoyed it each and every time you told it.

I love you, Dad! I couldn't have asked for a better one!

Definition of bully: a blustering, browbeating person, especially one who is habitually cruel, insulting, or threatening to others who are weaker, smaller, or in some way vulnerable tormented by the neighborhood bully.

Noun

Bully: a person who habitually seeks to harm or intimidate those whom they perceive as vulnerable.

Verb

Bully: seek to harm, intimidate, or coerce (someone perceived as vulnerable).

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Therapy

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

The Investigation

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

The Trial

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 69

Chapter 70

Chapter 71

Chapter 72

Chapter 73

Chapter 74

Chapter 75

Chapter 76

Chapter 77

Chapter 78

Chapter 79

Epilogue

My Stay at the Mansion

A young girl wiser beyond her years once said:

Smile because life gets better. Smile because it happened and showed you deserve better. Smile because life is too short to live in the past and think about what could've been. And lastly, smile because you're worth it.

—Jenna Hoglen

RIP, sweet angel!

About the Author

I'd like to dedicate this book to my dad.

After Mom became an angel in heaven, you became my rock, the one I could call when having a bad day; the one person I could count on being just as surprised as me about something in the news, even if it was just about the weather; the one person that never says no when I ask to watch your grand-dog, Shelby, or just me asking you to come over to watch scary movies with me.

You are the one person that never fails to say, I love you, almost every day before hanging up the phone. You have no idea how much this means to me.

I love when you tell me stories about your past, where you grew up, how Grandma used to get mad when you ran around outside early in the morning to pretend you were a cowboy shooting guns, when you met mom, where your first apartment was, where Aunt Joanne used to live in the apartments off French Road. Even if I heard that same story one hundred times, I enjoyed it each and every time you told it.

I love you, Dad! I couldn't have asked for a better one!

Definition of bully: a blustering, browbeating person, especially one who is habitually cruel, insulting, or threatening to others who are weaker, smaller, or in some way vulnerable tormented by the neighborhood bully.

Noun

Bully: a person who habitually seeks to harm or intimidate those whom they perceive as vulnerable.

Verb

Bully: seek to harm, intimidate, or coerce (someone perceived as vulnerable).

Prologue

I admit that what I did was wrong. That wasn't my intention.

But I blame them.

Each and every single one of those unforgiving bitches!

It feels amazing to say that. I've held it together for a very long time, but in the end, they broke me, which I guess, in the long run, means they won.

I hope you're happy, assholes.

They pushed and they pushed until the words were tattooed on my brain, You're no good. You're worthless.

Sad thing about it is, they probably weren't even aware of the impact their actions and words would have on me in the long run. Or maybe they did know and didn't care. Oh well, it's too late now.

*****

Have you ever been bullied? If you have been, then you will be able to relate to my story. If you've never been bullied, kudos to you. You're one of the lucky ones.

While reading my story, you may realize that you may fall into one of the categories of a bully. If you do, you may want to rethink your actions or words that you use toward another human being.

Put yourself in our shoes.

What do I mean by our shoes? I am referring to the very people you have personally bullied who have had to live with your stupid, ungrateful decisions to be an asshole for no reason whatsoever.

I ended up having to see a therapist. And do you know what she told me? That I have PTSD from being bullied! I didn't even know that was a thing. Now it kind of makes sense why those things that happened, happened the way they did.

Chapter 1

The Beginning of the End

Please state and spell out your full name, Judge Barter said, glancing down at me.

My name is Kori Archer. K-o-r-i A-r-c-h-e-r. My entire body was trembling. I hoped and prayed that no one could hear it in my voice as I said each letter of my name out loud.

Prosecutor Ringo, you may begin direct examination.

Kori, can you please tell the court and your fellow jurors what we are doing here today.

For the murder of… I was scared to speak. The words barely came out of my mouth.

Can you please speak louder for the courtroom to hear you.

For the murder of thirteen women.

Thirteen women. Did you hear that, ladies and gentlemen? Not one. Not two. Three or even four. Thirteen women. Thirteen women died by the means of this woman, Prosecutor Ringo stated, staring at the jury as he pointed directly at me.

"This woman sitting here in front of you has no soul! None. She took the lives of thirteen women and not in a simple way. She somehow devised an actual torture chamber. Those thirteen women who suffered tried to escape, but Kori Archer wasn't having it. No! She made sure each and every one of them suffered a brutal death at the house of horrors on that fateful night of July 7, 2018.

"Be sure that you gaze past her beautiful face because what sits here today is no angel. Sitting before you is the devil herself dressed in sheep's clothing. She may be a wife, a daughter, mother of two, and she may have never been in legal trouble in her past, but her past haunted her for years, and that evil she felt inside couldn't be pushed to the side anymore.

Now, I'm not only asking you to find her guilty. The prosecution for the state of New York ask that you find the defendant, Kori Marie Archer, guilty of first-degree murder with the intent to physically harm another human being and sentence her to death.

Chapter 2

July 7, 2018

911, what's your emergency?

They're dead! I killed them! There's blood everywhere!

Ma'am, please calm down. What's your name? Who's dead?

My best friends! My best…oh my god! I can't believe this… It was a setup… Please hurry.

The 911 operator could hear the woman was in distress, mumbling to herself, yet could only make out little of what she was saying.

Ma'am, take a deep breath. What's your name?

Elena! I'm losing a lot of blood please… Please hurry! she screamed.

Elena, give me the address of where you're located, and I will get someone dispatched to you right away.

1019 Main Street. I just heard another scream. Oh my god, I am going to die. Hurry—please hurry.

Elena, the police are on their way. Please don't hang up. Can you tell me what happened?

There's blood everywhere! I didn't mean to do it, but the note said it was the only way out. I'm not lying. It truthfully said it was the only way out.

Elena, you're not making any sense. Help is on its way to you now. I need you to stay calm and tell me what happened. Talk to me until the police get there.

No, no, no no—

Elena? Hello? Elena?

The phone line went dead.

Chapter 3

My Background

Let's start at the beginning. My name is Kori Shetan. I was born February 26, 1983, in Buffalo, New York, to Donny and Sandy Shetan. My mom had me when she was thirty years old, which apparently, back in the day, meant I was considered to be what they call a late bloomer.

All kidding aside though, my mom had three miscarriages before I came along. She had pretty much given up all hope until that one day in May when she peed on the little white stick that had a window where two blue lines as bright as the sky emerged.

My mom truly told me that story on every single one of my birthdays until the day she passed away. God bless her soul. I love you, Mom!

Was my dad happy about the pregnancy? Let's just say he was happy that my mom was happy and made it through the full nine months before delivering a beautiful, healthy, baby girl with hair as black as the night sky and piercing blue eyes identical to the ocean. Yep, that was me! I was their one and only.

My parents met in school and became high school sweethearts. They got married shortly after they graduated. My dad was twenty years old, and my mom was only eighteen, making him two years her senior and a cradle robber.

Now, when I thought about how young my parents were when they got married, I thought it was foolish! However, I guess if you're in love and you know that person is the one, then it shouldn't matter how old or young you are. At that point, age only becomes a number.

We were not a wealthy family, but we weren't poor either. We basically fell into the middle-class category but leaned a little bit more toward the poorer side.

My mom worked in retail, making only minimum wage, which back then was only $1.75 an hour. Could you believe that shit?

My dad worked in the deli at the local grocery store around the corner from where we lived. It's amazing how cheap everything was back then compared to now.

Every birthday and Christmas my parents would scrounge together what little bit of money they had left over after paying the monthly bills and rent to buy me something I pointed out either during a commercial when we'd watch our favorite nighttime shows—such as The Cosby Show, MacGyver, or In the Heat of the Night—or while perusing a store, when my mom and I would go walk around at Hills, a department store that we loved going to before it closed years ago and now merely sat as a vacant lot, with overgrown weeds and trails of garbage littered about.

My dad used to enjoy surprising me every now and then by leaving tchotchkes that he would receive at work in our apartment hallway, where he knew I would find them the next morning, when I would leave to walk five blocks to go catch the bus for school.

Being an only child, I had to come up with creative ways to entertain myself. I remember creating a makeshift house in our basement out of whatever furniture was down there or items I could find laying around the house or basement. It was my secret little getaway, and I loved it.

Then she moved in next door.

Chapter 4

New Neighbor

I sat and peered out of our front room window, curious to see who was moving in next door.

At the age of six, two hours felt close to an eternity. Time at that age couldn't move fast enough. Today it's the complete opposite; time just flies by. There's never enough time in a day to get everything done.

Once the moving truck drove away from the house, I nagged my mother to go meet the little girl I spotted walking into the house next door. I had no idea if she was going to be living there, but the mere thought that another girl my age was even visiting next door gave me goosebumps. I was beyond excited.

When I finally built up enough courage to knock on the door, I was shaking in the same way as a leaf on a cold, fall, windy day. I still remembered that moment clear as day; the excitement and nervousness combined made me feel as though I was going to pee my pants.

When the little girl opened the door, only to see my mom and I standing there, I couldn't contain my excitement any longer, I quickly introduced myself and then lunged at her, giving her the biggest bear hug.

At first when I let go of her, I thought I had frightened the poor thing, but then she introduced herself, saying, Hi. I'm Diedra. Nice to meet you. She embraced me back with a huge, warm, welcoming hug.

That was the start of a friendship I thought would last forever, but unfortunately, as the good ol' saying goes, all good things come to an end.

Chapter 5

Best Friends

From that day on, Diedra and I were pretty much inseparable. We attended the same elementary, middle, and high school. We walked those five blocks together every day to the bus stop and sat together on the bus to and from school. We sat together at lunchtime every day at school. Then we would hang out pretty much