4. C.

Her world was a blur, though she knew better. She knew better than to let the swirling colors get the best of her.

She navigated the seasons, though she could not make them hers. She communicated with stars to make sure they all aligned.

She sat down at a student desk on the last day of school. She hadn't been my student that year--I knew her from the year before.

"How was your school year?" I asked her, oblivious to the oblivion she had willingly wandered.

"It was good..."she trailed off, thinking. Then, slurred, speedily, "The start of the year didn't go so well because I got into some drugs and I knew better but the kids I was with kept saying I could feel better but I knew better but they kept saying that so I did some and my grades weren't so great this first semester and my head was so messed up and I know I messed up. I know I messed up."

We looked at each other for a moment. I breathed for both of us. "Second semester went better?"

"Yeah," she said, looking directly in my eyes. "I'm clean. I'm going to become a CNA. I'm going to go on a mission and help people." She paused. "I made mistakes," she mumbled. "I knew better."

I did my best to convince her that communicating her current clarity could help others not blur their world. I told her the seasons were hers; she navigated them well. I told her the stars would all align if she remembered.