Sweat and urine are the two smells stinking up the back of the police car. Sitting in other people's bodily fluids is enough to make me want to heave. Jeremy's hands are cuffed in the car. He stares out the window and watches the trees wave at him in the morning sun. It might be the last time Jeremy Davis sees the sun for a long time.Pretty soon, they will take Jeremy away and hide him forever. There's too much evidence that puts him at the crime scene. Even if I told them everything about Jeremy and where he was last night, I am not convinced they'd fully believe me.It's not fair that Kelly planted the cigarettes. I'm not sure when Kelly got a hold of Jeremy's knives. My guess is she snuck into the Davis' house and looked around for something. I'm not sure when she broke in. Did she do it months prior? How long was she watching Jeremy Davis? Maybe the knife isn't even his. It could all just be a big misunderstanding.The police car pulls into the station. Bef

By the time I get home, I don't even remember why I was mad at my mother in the first place. Something about bullying and the KAT trio: whatever the reason, my egg situation is nothing compared to Jeremy getting framed.The tv is playing softly in the background as I sneak in through the back door. The news is playing, and all over the news, to my horror, is Jeremy Davis. His mug shots, the photos of Gerald McLaren's corpse mangled and defiled on television. But, of course, I wasn't Gerald's friend, only his tutor. But if Jeremy told me in a letter that Gerald wanted to apologize to me for egging me, and that's why Kelly tried to kill him, then I believe Jeremy. I believe Jeremy right down to my bones.Photos of the murder weapon are shown on the news. I walk past my parents, and like a fly attracted to light, I can't bring myself to pull away. My parents are talking, but it's white noise. I can barely understand the English being broadcasted to me on the screen. Not s

"Lily-kins, are you ready to go?" My mother wakes me up. I don't know what day it is. I can barely remember my own name. It's been an exhausting turn of events. Seeking revenge on my bully is not something I ever thought I would do or could do. I can definitely not discuss my revenge plans with my mom. I could talk about this with a best friend in another life if I had one of those. But there will be plenty of time for that in college. If I can take a bully down, I will know I am prepared for college and being on my own."Ready for what, mom? Can't this wait? I am exhausted. I don't want to go anywhere.""For your braces. Today you are getting them off," mom replies.My mother forgot to tell me about the single most important day of my entire youth. It would have been nice to have this day carved in stone as a holiday. My own personal Memorial Day to commemorate that I no longer have to bear the name of Train Tracks. No more C

My mother is dead. Her blood stains surround the base of the big tree. The big tree that once held my boyfriend in its branches now cradles my dead mother at its base.I'm in shock, and it feels like horrifying shivers going through my nervous system. Kelly has won. She's taken my mother from me. I always knew that my mother and I didn't get along. I always assumed we would have more time to apologize and understand each other. More time to become best friends in my post-college years when I would be married and have three kids. She would have been a wonderful grandma, but that future is no more.A future I thought I would have is ripped away from me within thirty seconds. I place my mother's head on my lap and let her blood drip all around me. I soak in this last moment I will ever have her beside me.My body has been shivering for five straight minutes. My head is spinning and asking questions like, why did she have to be murdered in a park? 

Ringing in my ears like the hum of a thousand bees pollinating in summer. Ringing from my teeth clenching as tight as they will go. The grinding of my teeth has worn down my back wisdom teeth. Without my braces in the way and a fresh new clean smile...All I do is clench. I think about everything from the Lending Library carrying many stories to the books I donated to its collection. The very collection I once donated The History of Pirates too.I would travel the sea and let my bullies walk the plank if I were Anne Bonnie. But instead, I clench my jaw at the very thing creating my panic and terror.Kelly's picture stares at me through the pages of my old yearbook. Her middle school photo had braces, but hers were invisible. People didn't dare call her names even then. If any girl said anything about that, she'd give you a horsey with your bra strap so powerful that your back would have whip marks until freshman year.Anne Bonnie would have pul