Flashing red and blue lights wake me up. A siren blares. I cover my ears and squeeze my eyes shut, desperately trying to soothe the unbearable pounding in my head. I hear a heavy knock at the door, then shouts. My door is thrown open and my sheets are ripped off of me. A rough hand yanks me from the bed and pushes me against the wall. I hear voices but I can't understand them. My hands are twisted behind me and I hear the clink of metal, feel the coolness of it against my skin. I can't see or think, the pounding in my head is getting worse. I am pulled outside and across the wet grass. It's raining. I'm forced into a car and the door slams shut behind me. I look out the rain streaked window to see my dad slam the front door shut. Then I black out.

The rough hand jostles me awake and leads me into the police station. They say I have to sit in a gray plastic chair until they call my name. a flash of pink catches my eye. "Kayla?" She doesn't hear me. "Kayla!" She turns around this time and gives me a weird look. "I'm Amy, or are you too hung over to remember that?" She grabs her stuff and storms out of the room. A police officer looks at me, and I turn away from his stare, looking down at the ground. The bright lights are giving me a headache, so I close my eyes. "Charlie!" I jolt awake and look up. The officer behind the desk in front of me is looking expectantly at me. I stand up and feel dizzy. I stumble over to him. He gives me a paper to sign but the words are too blurry for me to read. I get my eyes to focus enough so I can sign my name. he takes my fingerprints; the black ink stains my fingertips. Another officer leads me down a series of halls until we get to one filled with cells. He takes me to number 6 and gives me an orange jumpsuit and rubber shoes. I fumble around trying to put on the clothes and sit on my bed. He takes my clothes and locks my cell door. I lay on my back. I'm in a cell. I'm in jail. I should be upset. But I don't feel anything. Nothing except the incessant pounding in my head. The bed is cold. I turn onto my side and close my eyes.

Yells wake me up. For a few seconds I don't remember where I am. Then I see the cell door and it all comes back to me. I start to get up but lie back down when I immediately feel dizzy. I lie there for a while, just staring at the ceiling. Then an officer comes to my door and says I have to get up. I have a meeting. I get up and splash cold water on my face, but the dizzy feeling doesn't go away. I'm led down to a small room with only a table and three chairs. Someone else is here, their papers spread out over the table. When I sit in my chair, the man looks up. "Hi, Charlie. My name is Mr. Harper. I'm your lawyer." I just look at him. "Do you know why you are here?" I nod. I actually don't know, but I want him to stop talking so I can go back to my cell and sleep. My head really hurts. "Okay, well the evidence is strong against you, and there are two witnesses, to testify against you, but I will do my best to help. Your court date is set for September 4, which is eight weeks away. In the meantime, try not to get into any trouble. Any questions?" I shake my head. "Okay, then. I'll see you in eight weeks." He packs up his stuff and leaves. The officer comes back in and takes me back to my cell. I lie down on the cold, hard bed and sleep. Dinner is the first meal I eat. It tastes like cardboard. I eat fast and then sit on my windowsill. It's raining again. I want to be out there; want to feel the cool wet as the rain pours down on me and washes away all the bad things. But I'm stuck in here. And I don't know why. Sunlight wakes me. I fell asleep on the windowsill so now my muscles are all cramped. As I'm stretching, breakfast comes. It's soggy and cold, but I'm so hungry I eat all of it. When I'm done eating I sit on my bed. Soon I am restless. I get up and go out of my cell into the common room. It's not that special- just a bunch of tables filled with people like me. I walk over to the row of telephones in the corner. I pick up a phone and dial home. It goes straight to voicemail. I hang up without leaving a message. I grab a book from the lone bookshelf in the room and sit at an empty table. I sit there the whole day. No one comes to talk to me; no one sits next to me. I grab dinner and go back to my table. That night I fall asleep on the windowsill again.

The next eight weeks go by, and I don't make a single friend. My dad never comes on visiting days and he never answers the phone when I try to call. I notice a dull ache of loneliness. The morning of my court date is different. When I wake up, Mr. Harper is waiting for me with nice clothes I have to wear. He starts talking about the case, but I don't listen to him. I'm too anxious. We enter the courtroom and I look around to see who all is here. I spot my dad in the far back and relief washes over me. I want this day to be over with so I can go home with him. I miss everything from home. Especially Kayla. I even painted her a picture for her birthday next week. It's all pink, her favorite color. I can't wait till she sees it. Sitting one row in front of my dad is Amy. I miss her too. Kayla, Amy, Noah, Amy's boyfriend, and I hang out all the time. We're inseparable. The trial starts. I try to pay attention, but it's hard. I can't remember anything that happened the night I got arrested. Every once and I while I hear something that sparks a flash of a memory. Me driving, picking up Kayla, going to a party, dancing, drinking, driving home alone. My mind keeps trying to put the pieces together so I end up giving up on trying to pay attention to what's happening around me. I sit in the chair a long time. I'm exhausted when I get back to my cell. I wish I could've gone home tonight, but there is a recess until tomorrow. That night, I have a nightmare. Kayla and I are leaving a party. Amy and Noah are leaving with us. We're all wasted and giddy. As we walk to my car, Kayla turns to me and calls me a drunk flirt. I drop my drink and turn to glare at her. She steps toward me and glares back with an icy look in her eyes. She slaps me. Amy and Noah just stand there. I shove Kayla. Hard. She screams and falls onto the street. I run to my car and speed away. The road is curvy and my vision is distorted. Several times I almost veer off the road but somehow I make it home. I pull up in front of my house and run straight to my room. I pass out on my bed. I wake up with a start, drenched with sweat. I realize that that is what happened that night.

I dress up again in the morning. Mr. Harper comes to meet me a few minutes before the trial resumes. He looks defeated. We wait in silence. Finally we go into the courtroom. We take our places at the table in the front. My mind is clearer today. I try to pay attention this time. A person from the jury walks over to the judge and hands him a paper. The judge read over it quickly. Right as he is about to speak, a final memory comes back to me. As I was driving away from Kayla, I looked in my rearview mirror. She lay on the road, not moving. Tears fill my eyes when I realize what happened and why I am here. "Charlie Davids, guilty of manslaughter." I gasp. I don't hear anything else after that. Tears stream down my face and hands pull me out of the room and into a cop car. I killed Kayla. Kayla is dead. Because of me. And now I'm going to prison.

When the car finally stops, I'm empty. I'm numb. An officer opens my door and I climb out. I stare up at the foreboding building in front of me, then stare blankly at the officer. She looks me straight in the eye. "Welcome home, little lady."