A light groan filled the room.  The previously prone figure stirred on the couch.  Bleary eyes looked around in confusion, straining against the bright light.  What had she drunk last night?! She couldn’t remember anything.  Eyes moved from the way too bright windows to the ceiling above her.  Nope, still not familiar.  She definitely wasn’t on her bed and this didn’t look like Aisha’s apartment either.  With another groan, she fell off the bed to the floor.  Correction, she fell off the couch to the floor.  Pulling herself up, the blonde staggered over to the unfamiliar fireplace.  It had pictures on it.  Pictures were good.  Peering through one eye, she caught sight of two figures.  Hmm.  She slowly blinked her other eye open and the image further cleared.<br/><br/>It was a man and a teenager, ones she didn’t know.  No wait.  Was the teenager familiar?  Sandy hair, really faint irises, long pants, and long sleeves.  Wasn’t that one of her classmates?  The ones the girls whispered about for sexy arms and--dread settled into Vivio.  And her partner for the photography project, the one she’d oh so smartly suggested they based around an “urban forest” concept that required them going to the forest at night and getting caught in a parahuman gang fight.  Okay, the second part may not have been required but that sure as heck happened!<br/><br/>She staggered back onto the couch, dropping onto it bonelessly.  Shit. Shit shit shit shit.  Now that she was thinking about it, her shoulder hurt.  More importantly though… She groaned and pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes.  More importantly though, she’d totally made things go boom last night when Isaac was around.<br/><br/><span style="color: deepskyblue">“SHIT!”</span>She slammed her palms into the couch underneath her but it wasn’t nearly satisfying enough.  Her hands went back to covering her face.  Maybe she could just imagine this all away… Her pinged right next to her, the distinct ringtone of an incoming text.  Vivio peeked at the device, wondering if she really wanted to see what was on it.  The next tune was the sound of her sister texting.  No, she didn’t want to see what was on it but she knew her sister (and her parents) deserved to know she was alive.  Picking up the phone, the teenager was unsurprised to see 50 texts and 15 missed calls waiting for her.  She skimmed through them quickly but they just reflected what she expected: frantic messages asking if she was okay, if she was safe, and if she was alive.  Oh, someone must have answered those questions for her since her last message from her mom was thanking god she was okay and telling her to call them when she woke up.  The phone was wonderfully void of messages after that, probably so she could sleep in peace.  Her sister’s messages followed the same trend but the most recent one told her that her sister was going to try to sleep and that Gabrielle hoped she was okay.<br/><br/>Vivio stared at the last message and then dully typed out:<span style="color: gray">I’m alive. I’m okay. Just woke up.  Will call mom and dad soon.</span>She pressed [SEND] and then dropped the phone back beside her.  Great, what was she going to do now?  The sound of the television from another room caught her attention.  It sounded like a news program and--she made a face in disgust--it was discussing last night’s gang fight.  She wearily climbed to her feet once more and followed the sound.  Time to find out if she’d killed anyone. Again.