Zoe stared at her new outfit, which consisted of a high-necked, long-sleeved, white blouse and an ankle-length beige skirt and a pair of low heels. It was so mundanely conservative that Zoe just wanted to vomit. She was dressed like one of those prudish religious types from school, like Nadine Ferguson, for example. She hated that girl.
Or did she?
Suddenly, she felt odd. She remembered hating Nadine and all of her "Bible-thumping" friends, but the more she thought about Nadine, the more those memories began to fade. Why did she have a problem with her outfit again? It was what she put on that morning. There wasn't anything strange about it, right?
Even so, there was this whisper at the back of her mind telling her that none of this was right. That she wasn't religious in the slightest, that she was a rebel and she did whatever she wanted whenever she wanted. But that didn't sound like her. Zoe was a good girl, a Godly girl. Just the thought of breaking the rules bothered her greatly.
She looked at the clock. "I better get to school," she muttered. Then she grabbed her school bag from the floor beside her and headed out the door.
