On a school day just after class, a load of books and a backpack would be resting on the floor. But today, there are dots of red on the carpet.
“Shit!” Mandy races up the stairs with her hand on her left knee and heads for the bathroom.
The faucet is turned and she places her leg under the cold rush of water. She winces. All the blood washes away so she reaches for a towel to wrap her leg in.
She wished this wasn’t the day the boys in her street ran her over with their bikes. She feels a sharp pang but it’s not from her cut rather a distant memory. “Dan’s gonna come home tomorrow with the car. I just know I’m gonna run over those jerks.”
She goes to her bedroom to look for the box of bandages and recalls the last time she needed it. Another sharp pang.
She opens her closet to find the bag she used last summer. She drops the contents: her missing watch along with a box of bandages and a letter. She stops.

“To the girl who loves to bike”, it said. Again, she wished this wasn’t the day those boys ran her over.