It had been three months since the incident. I just couldn’t take it anymore. I needed a fresh start. I had convinced my father to move to a city called Slough. It was right by London so we wouldn’t be too far from the city, but far enough where I didn’t have to see that place on my way to school anymore. It wasn’t the biggest change but it was enough for me. Even better, I was at a new school, with new people

. The only real problem was that my sister's death had been all over the news because no doctor could explain what happened to her. On her death certificate they only wrote “Accident”. We all knew this was no accident. I still had no idea what had happened to my sister that day. Nor did I think I would ever know. Did I even want to know?No, I didn’t.

I layed on my bed in our new home and just stared at the ceiling. It had many small bumps all over it. It was what we call a “Popcorn Ceiling”. While it was cool to feel and all it wasn’t always pleasant to have tiny pieces of your ceiling fall down on you occasionally.

I had school in the morning, I needed sleep if I wanted to wake up on time. I had to be awake by five thirty and I was not ready to be waking up early again. I hadn’t been to school since then.

The room was hot and heavy. I found it hard to breathe. I got up to turn the AC on but when I stood up I felt like I should lay back down. I couldn’t really describe it. It just didn’t feel right. So I layed back down on my bead and just continued to sweat it out.

When I woke up the next morning I was sure someone had dunked water on me. I was sweating so much that my shirt had marks on it. Just how hot had it been that night? I quickly grabbed a set of jeans and a tee shirt and made my way to the bathroom. No way was I going to go to school covered in sweat. Whilst in the shower I kept thinking about what my new school was gonna be like. Would the people there recognize me and know about the “A. Johnson Case”?

I just want to be accepted. I’ve gotten so much criticism online and in person after my sister’s death. People always have something to say. They say it's my fault. They weren’t there. Someone, no, something else led her to her death. All I was, was a bystander. Nothing could have been done.

The bus arrived shortly after I came to my bus stop. As I stepped on the bus I saw people put their heads down, whisper to each other, and even point fingers at me. Did they know who I was? Maybe they were just curious since I’m new here.

I tried to find an empty seat but evidently there weren’t any. I couldn’t even find a seat with less than three people in it. I decided to just stand in the back of the bus since the ride wouldn’t be that long anyways.

As I stood in the back everyone kept staring at me and talking in hushed tones as they would look at me and then look at what I’m assuming were their phones. I hoped they weren’t making fun of me, or talking about what happened to my sister.

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After what felt like ten or so minutes the bus came to a final stop in front of a building that said ‘Slough HS’ on a nearby sign. As everyone unloaded off the bus and walked to their classes I noticed something off. There was something dark that kept appearing in the corner of my eye.

I’m just imagining things, I thought to myself. Was I? Who knows. Whatever it was, I decided to ignore it. Maybe it was because I didn’t sleep well the previous night. Yeah, that’s what it was.

I noticed a student, who appeared to be a junior, stared at me in horror and ran past me in an instant. Why did they run? Did I appear intimidating? Did they recognize me? Did they see it? No. It hasn’t come back, nor will it ever. At least I hope it doesn’t.

I looked down at the paper in my hand. I was holding my schedule. For my first class I had algebra. Great, more stress. Who even thought of the idea to incorporate letters into math? It made no sense to me.

Room three- hundred and twenty-six it read. By the time I looked up I had only two minutes until class started! I ran from where I was standing all the way to the three-hundred hallway and made a sharp turn into my class. Still breathing heavily from running, I waited for my teacher to inform me where I would be seated.

“Desk thirteen.” He politely said as he looked at me. Exhausted, I sat down in my seat and took out my notebook to prepare myself for the lesson. Everyone in my class was staring at me. I couldn’t help but feel like a dog in a pack of wolves, that’s how intimidating these people were.

By the time the bell had rung, I had already been hit by at least six paper balls. I never said anything though, I was too afraid it's only cause me more trouble. I was pretty sure by that point that they all recognized me from the “A Johnson Case” where I was put to trial for murder. People always assume I did it, but if they were there they would know.

I’m still surprised I wasn’t charged. I mean, it honestly did look like I did it. Luckily for me though, the lack of evidence was enough for them to let me off. My father knew I was innocent, but everyone else? They would never know the truth.

Did I really blame them for throwing paper at me? No, but then again I wish they hadn’t. As I picked up my bag I heard someone say “Fucking Murderer!”. How many times do I have to say it, I'm not a murderer!

Almost every class that day felt the same, no matter where I was, someone always had something to say. I was beginning to realize that moving only got rid of one of my problems. I still had to live with the fact that people hated me.

When I got home from school that day I felt like a nervous wreck. Was this going to be my life now? Was I just going to be hated by everyone? I was scrolling through my phone when I noticed this video on youtube, it read “MURDERER OF HAYLEE JOHNSON LOOSE? WHERE IS SHE NOW?”. “Oh my fucking god!” I yelled. “How many times are people going to point their dumbass fingers at me and tell me what I did and didn’t do!”. I felt like screaming into my pillow.

I began to cry as I realized my life would never be the same. It would never be normal. It would never be decent. My life was shit. I decided to get up and go for a walk, maybe that would calm me down. I walked in a bunch of random directions until I realized I was lost. Shit. I wasn’t even supposed to leave the house without permission. I couldn’t call my father unless I wanted to be grounded, so I just strolled around wondering if I’d see any familiar places.

As I walked, and walked I came to a slow pace when I noticed someplace familiar, too familiar.

I didn’t like it here. It reminded me too much of the place. Well, it just turns out this was the place. It was the playground. Not just any playground. The playground where my sister was choked to her death, the playground where I saw it. I turned around and ran. I wanted to be as far as possible from that place.

After what felt like hours of running I finally arrived home. My father had just pulled into the driveway. I sped behind the bushes and began to climb into my room through my bedroom window. I climbed through my window into my room and layed on my bed as if not to act suspicious.

What a long day. It didn’t take long for me to pass out on my bed, still covered in dirt and still in my school uniform. Though I don’t think it mattered, what mattered was getting away from that place.