The minute I turned onto my street, I knew something was going on. The white BMW sitting in my spot. My spot!_ The BMW I had to pass every single day. I knew what was coming.
I walked into my house to my mother’s voice. Then I heard Kirsty’s nasaly voice. “Your daughter, slapped me!” I walked in, my eyes on my feet the whole time.
“Macy, ” I heard, I knew this voice. “Did you?” I just nodded my head in what I like to call fake shame. “I can’t believe you! This is not how I raised you!” I looked into her ice blue eyes. She seemed to have a shocked look on her face as my own red mark was now visible.
Then all hell broke loose. My mom yelled at Kirsty’s mother, vice versa. Kirsty came over to me and we started yelling at each other. Her face was beet red, I tried my hardest to show no emotion. My cheek started to throb again. Then she crossed the line. She took a picture frame off one of our shelves and threw it at me. It hit the top of my eyelid, and blood gushed out.
So, what did I do? I wiped it on her.