Turned

He must still be mad about last night.

She glanced at her cell: dead. She had forgot to charge it. It was just as well. She didn’t feel like talking to anyone.

She threw on some clothes from the floor and ran her hands through her hair. She normally would just leave without eating, but this morning she felt thirsty. Unusually thirsty. She went to the fridge and grabbed a half gallon of red grapefruit juice. In a sudden frenzy, she tore off the top and gulped it right from the container. She didn’t stop gulping until she’d downed the entire half gallon.

She looked at the empty container. Had she just drank all of that? In her life, she’d never drank more than a half a glass. She watched herself reach up and crush the cardboard container in a single hand, down to a tiny ball. She couldn’t understand what this newfound strength was that coursed through her veins. It was exciting. And scary.

She was still thirsty. And hungry. But not for food. Her veins screamed for something more, but she couldn’t understand what.

It was strange to see the hallways of her school so empty, the complete opposite of the day before. With class in session, there wasn’t a soul in site. She glanced at her watch: 8:40. There were 15 minutes left to her third class of the day. She wondered whether it was worth it to even go at all, but then again, she didn’t know where else to go. So she followed the hallway numbers towards the room.

She stopped outside the classroom door, and could hear the teacher’s voice. She hesitated. She hated to interrupt, to be so conspicuous. But she didn’t see what other choice she had.

She took a deep breath and turned the metal knob.