Non-classifiable
A chill creeps up my back. I swear, when I walked into this shed half an hour ago, there were muddy footprints on the dock. They aren't there now.
First there was a brilliant flash of what could only have been lightning. I shrieked as a sharp pins-and-needles jolt shot up my arm. I was so shocked that I dropped the umbrella. My hands were shaking, my whole body vibrating. And my heart was thumping hard. It was almost like a brush with death!
The office is a windowless gray cell. The vice-principal across the desk from me says, "A one-week suspension is automatic."