As she stood, slack-jawed, she heard the sound of the bell. All of the students started toward class, but she didn't move. She didn't associate the bell with something of meaning.
A girl hurried past her, and in her haste, a notebook fell out of her bag at Zoe's feet.
Zoe picked it up, and flipped it open. It was written in the first person...some sort of story, or narrative. As she read, the narrative become her own.
