Jake
I shivered uncontrollably. A nuthouse? I was going to be sent to a nuthouse? No, this couldn't happen. I sat at my desk, rubbing my temples in vain. Alone again, I opened my desk drawer and peered in. There, sitting at the back of my drawer, was the plastic bag filled with marijuana. I hadn't taken it…yet. I made sure my door was locked shut before taking it out of the drawer. I looked at it closely before slamming it down on my desk. I got up and started pacing the length of my desk, thinking.
They think I murdered my dad. When the police left, I had looked into my mum's eyes and I could see some sort of realisation cross them. She believed that I had murdered dad. They all believed it. I wondered if the Animorphs believed it. How could one day screw up my whole life? I didn't kill my dad; he had driven off his side of the road. It wasn't my fault. But I couldn't tell them that. It would ruin his reputation; it would give him a bad name. I couldn't do that to him. But how could I live in a nuthouse or in juvie? How could I live with everyone thinking I had killed my own dad? How could I live knowing that everyone thought I was suicidal? After everything I have done for everyone, all the killing, I didn't come off as a hero, but as a stupid kid who kills his own father. Suddenly it became too much. The pain was unbearable. I needed out of everything. I had to get out and I didn't mean out of a human being. I needed to relieve the pain. I lunged at my desk.
Author's Note Another short chapter! AHHHH! I'm pathetic! lol