Someone screamed and I realized that someone was me. I was running toward our car, screaming like… well, like a little girl. John, who had been leaning against the car, heard me screaming and ran to meet me, but instead of jumping into his arms, I ducked past him. I didn’t stop running until I reached our car, wrenched open the door and dove in, out of sight of everyone. I slid on the plastic like I’d done before, but not as far or as painfully. I laid myself down on the seat to keep anyone from seeing me through the car windows.
You know, Mom and John didn’t even ask me why I ran screaming to the car. Maybe they guessed why, or maybe they just don’t care that my soul was just scarred for all of eternity! Even now, as I recall those memories, I’ve broken out in a cold sweat, my bottom lip is quivering and my tears are dripping down on the backs of my hands.