Dizzy:

As I weaved through the crowded hallways, I focussed on the rhythm of my footsteps. I was lost. It was as if I was a new student or something. Now that Annabella was gone, the hallways made me dizzy with fear. When you're with your best friend, nothing matters. When you know you'll never see her again, not even a faint light of happiness appears at the end of the freight tunnel.
I'm still me, I reminded myself. But who was I? Before knew it, a bib of tears flooded down my chest. I hear red-headed Abigail whisper to Elisa. Faint words saying, 'They're actually crying?' I wished those faint words was the faint light at the end of the tunnel. And if I was sitting, I'd sink down into my seat and cover my eyes like a three year old, as if that made it so no one could see me. But I was standing there and it was all I could do to refrain myself from punching Strawberry Short Cake, otherwise known as Abigail, in the nose. Mama didn't like it when I was violent, and I knew looking down on me, I might get struck by lightning or something. So I did what I could do and I cried.
The bell rings and I hit my head on the closest locker. I cannot go to class like this, I thought. My eyes were red, and I was dizzy. Which would make Papa the most furious? Skipping class or getting a call from my teacher, stating in a questioning and confused voices; Carson is in the middle of a hangover..? Yeah, me the angelic nerd. I was a nerd. Annabella didn't mind. Her different IQ level didn't affect anything, but things changed.... or did I change?

I decided I would leave and go home. I was sick. Sick of life where Annabella is half way across the country. But Papa could think I was a different kind of sick for all I cared. I would not face Mr. Calliway, my teacher, next period, with last weeks' home work he was allowing me to turn in a little late not even started. I hadn't done any homework, in fact. Yeah me; the nerd. Mrs. Lloyd even asked my dad if anything was going on that she should know about. As if my dad even cared. Let's face it, he cares more about Cleetus, our hound dog than me.

I walked to the nurses office. I borrowed Ethan's lighter. Ethan was one of them. Them, I didn't know I was becoming one of them. He thought differently before he witnessed the fact that I did not want the lighter for the reason he does. I did not have cigarettes. And I wish I could say I did not want them. I gingerly lighted a cup of water. I observed it as it boiled. Ethan and them stared. I drank it and it burned my throat. I felt my esophogaus melting. I did not feel my heart. I liked pain. I was emo. Yeah, me; the nerd.

I sank down in one of the harsh, cold chairs. The nurse acts as if she doesn't see me. She must think she's hallucinating; Carson, the nerd, leaving early for the first time in the two years I'd been here at Kiser Middle.

I think about clearing my throat but I do not have to. My too-close-to-melted esophogaus
speaks for me and lets out a vicious and sickly cough. It sounded different than someone with a cold, it sounded like my insides hissing at my emotional self. The nurse displays a suspicious look on her face, but passes me a thermometer. I got away with the hiss instead of cough because I am just a nerd. I would never do anything wrong. Of course Carson Lee would never be up to anything suspicious.