“When did you first meet her Mr. Hinderson,” the people in white lab coats asked. “Why should I answer your questions,” said boy in a depressing and deep voice. “It says here that you and her both attended sixth through tenth grade until… well you know what happened. We aren’t here to put the blame on you we’re trying to figure out who did it and what happened, also we’re trying to help you forget,” said the people in lab coats. Suddenly the boy was silent and then he felt a sharp pain in his head, the ones he felt before he snapped. But instead of snapping he spoke “we met one day at school it was a usual day at school. I was only 14 when we first met but it was just brief encounter, it was the first day of seventh grade she was dressed in a pink and white striped long sleeved shirt and a skirt and she smelled like strawberries I was dressed in a usual white t-shirt and some pants. She and I met somehow,” He said trying to remember. “How did you two meet,” they shouted. He looked back deeper and deeper but only remembered a fragment. He remembered how he used to get bullied and how much no one cared for him he was an outcast. He had so much on his mind he had just over heard his step parents talking about how he was adopted the night before. He felt alone in the world, no the word wasn’t alone he thought and as he was in the middle of thinking of the word, a girl that was one year younger than he was, she was 5’3”, you could tell she was part African American and White by the way she talked, it was a little proper and a little slangy, she had long black hair with blue highlights and she was gorgeous with an soon to be hourglass figure. She approached him. “Are you okay,” she asked. He didn’t answer instead he walked away and continued thinking and found the word it was antisocial, that’s what he was and then the girl pestered him again. “Did you hear me?” she asked, he replied irritated “I only wish I didn’t.” “There is something wrong I can tell it in your eyes.” she said, he replied once again, “ Why do you care you’ll just backstab me,” “how can you be sure that I will?” She asks, “Because…”