Author's notes:

Carmilla: Thank you for reviewing!

Everyone else: Review! Now! Or…Something bad happens. And if you like this, check out "Not Even Memories", my other story.

Yes, I know this is short; I think all the chapters from now on are going to be. But there'll be more of them, so don't worry.

I don't know what's wrong with Kelly. She's been acting so weird lately. Something's wrong, but she's trying to hide it from me. Me! We've been best friends since first grade, and we always tell each other everything. Until now, anyway. I really don't know what's gotten in to her. I pretty sure she knows I know something's wring; every single time she does something strange, I ask her what's going on, but she just brushes me off. It's always, "Nothing's wrong, Sam, why are you all hyper-sensitive?" or "You're imagining things, Sammie." She knows I hate to be called Sammie. It's even worse than "Samantha". It's not that I'm a tomboy; I just hate the name, and "Sam" is the only variation of it I can stand.

But back to Kelly. I don't remember exactly, but I'm pretty sure she started acting funny around the time when she changed her hair. I don't see why she likes her new style, really. One day she just came to school with green hair with flowers in it. I inspect her hair when she doesn't know I'm looking. She has eleven flowers in hair that seems to have thickened considerably – I wonder what she put in it? She probably wouldn't tell me if I asked, though; for some reason, she's really sensitive of her hair in particular. The flowers in it are incredible, really. I looked them up: they're called "passion flowers". They're so intricate, with layer upon layer of petals and stems. Nearly all of them are colored, but with varying shades of the primary color. She wears eleven, always the exact same colors and in the exact same place. (I can't imagine where she gets them every single day, and that similar. She must replace them daily, because they're usually not wilted much at all, if any.)

Her flowers are all different colors: Deep purple, lavender, royal blue, sky blue, bright orange, bright green, maroon, rose pink, bright yellow, a bright blue-green color, and white. (Those are just the main colors in each flower, of course; the deep purple has some lavender in it, for example.) Until she started wearing them, I didn't believe a flower could come in that many colors. And this sounds crazy, but I'm not sure if I do believe it, even now. I can't find anything on the internet, but I've never heard of a flower coming in all those colors.

The deep purple flower is on her top right side of her head, the place most people put flowers in their hair. The rest of them are just scattered all over. One is actually on the top of her head; another must have to be superglued to nearly the very ends of her hair. All of the others are all over the rest of her hair, with practically no order. The only thing their places have in common is that they all point out, and Kelly wears them so they're all on the top, as opposed to being covered in hair.

I sighed and began to pedal. Kelly and I usually, though not always, bike to school together, but if I wait any longer outside her house I'm going to be late. If she was coming, she would have come out by now, and if she's not I don't want to bug her. She wouldn't tell me if anything was wrong, if that's why she's not here, so I wouldn't be of any help if I did go in. I don't know what to do. I don't think there is actually anything I can do. Her parents already know something's wrong; I've seen the way they look at her, all sad and worried. I wish I could help, somehow.

I arrived at school without seeing her (not that I was expecting to). We wouldn't normally see each other until our second class, so I had until then to wonder if Kelly was even here, and regret my decision to leave without finding out what was going on. I wouldn't have normally left if I thought anything might be the matter, but I guess I'm tired of being rejected.

As it turned out, she was at school; a note in my locker quickly explained that her whole family had had problems getting ready to leave, and they were all half-an-hour late to their respective schools and work places. She didn't give any more detail, though, and she somehow managed to write it without any complaining or other bias. I wasn't surprised; this is the way she's been acting lately.

During classes, when the teacher wasn't looking, and over lunch break, we chatted about nothing. She seemed a little hurt, which made me feel worse for not finding out what the deal was this morning. At least, I can't think of any other way I could have hurt her.

I finally exploded when we were alone in the bathroom.

"What's wrong with you?" I yelled, with no warning. She'd been acting particularly unemotional, and I was fed up. "You've been acting so out of it lately! You – you're a different person! The Kelly I know would never – never try to be so far away from me! Ever since you changed your hair, you've been acting like a robot!"

I don't know what came over me, but I reached out and grabbed that deep purple flower, the one in the "traditional" place to put a flower in hair. I was surprised by how well it was attached – did she really use superglue? – but I was able to pull it out, of course. I was even more surprised by her reaction. She screamed, grabbing her hair. All the other flowers in her hair actually wilted, turning brown and shriveling up. I just gaped at her for a second, absorbing what had happened. When it finally struck me that I had somehow hurt her, I moved toward her, apologizing.

"Oh my gosh, Kelly, are you okay? I'm so sorry! What happened?"

She just shook her head, crying. Before I could do anything, she ran out of the bathroom. Without thinking, I dropped the flower and tried to follow her, but she's always been a faster sprinter than me, and I lost her quickly. The bell rang, and I decided to go to class and hope she was there.

When she didn't show up for the class, where I was waiting by the door, I checked both of our lockers and the library with no luck. I tried calling her home, but I got her message machine. She didn't pick up when I started talking.

So there were two places she could be: Her home, and she was just not answering the phone, or The Park. I went out to get my bike, noticing hers was gone. I rode to her house, but no one was there. (And I didn't just knock on the door; I looked in all the windows and the backyard.) Trying not to think about the trouble I was going to get into for skipping school, I rode as fast as I could to The Park.