To know me is to love me.

There is a little girl. She's in third grade. She has one blue eye and one hazel-green eye. When she met me, she thought it was pretty cool that I have two different colored eyes, too.

After school yesterday, on a day that another student also noticed my eyes, I turned on the radio and sat in my car gasping in horror. I never go into the teacher's lounge for lunch, so I didn't know.

All I can think about is the little girl with the two different colored eyes. I know she's okay. I know it wasn't her. But it could have been, and it makes me so angry and so scared.