Disgusting.

I changed back into my normal clothes; I could look this way at home, they couldn’t arrest me for that.

Since when did people get so judgemental, just by the way you look, by the mistakes you’ve made?

Then again, I can see where you can get a little judged if you’ve TP’d the principal’s house two… maybe five times.

I sighed at the thought.

I was thinking about what’d happened, reviewing each event in my mind. There was a teacher at the scene… right?

I’d seen Phoebe when I’d woken up, sitting there at a seat with her face bleeding..

Mom said Phoebe was dead, that what I’d seen hadn’t happened at all.

I wondered how much of what I’d seen was true or not right. Maybe I was delusional, maybe it was a dream. I don’t know if you can have dreams after passing out, but I went with it. I confuse dreams with real life quite often.

So the teacher… wasn’t there. The huge crowd of kids was only three people, and Phoebe was dead.

And only my mom really believed me.