I was once confronted by a friend who told me that god doesn't exist. Her back hit the lockers and slid down, the backpack dragging her to the school floor. Her bruises and cuts on her face, proof of no god.

She looked up at me and said, "how could a god let this happen to me?" She cried and her tears ran rushing red wetness down her checks. "If there's a god above why does he hate me?" Her pain was evident in her twisted pink face.

The bell rang. I was stuck. I just needed to get back to class. Lunchtime was over. I looked for her during lunch, I did, but I didn't see her. And I didn't know it was... that... Bad. I dropped my bag down next to her and slid down myself. I had to be there for her. But what about class? My mom would kill me.

I pulled my knees up and gripped my hair in my hands. "How?"

She hiccuped into silence.

I turned to her and gripped her arm. "How?"

She rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. "I was just being me. Just getting my books. Then they came and.." She broke off and turned away. Go to the nurse, I told her. She blinked and looked at me and said "Why bother? It's too late anyways."