They were laughing so hard, sliding across the polished, wood floor of the hallway in their socks, seeing who could slide the farthest. This was so much fun. In a second, there was a loud sound, glass everywhere, blood. Rich’s hand Is stuck in the window; the sharp glass prevented it from moving in or out. Oh Oh. Screaming, crashing, giant footsteps running up the stairs, and blood everywhere . Everyone was yelling with terrified voices.
He couldn’t remember what actually happened, just that somehow he was crouched in the corner being screamed at and blamed for playing in this dangerous way. The memory is a blurred image of loud voices and waves of fear crashing over him. He was going to be killed. Rich might die and it was his fault. He trembled so hard that all thoughts disappeared.