Phantom Hollow a slab in the morgue

He took a staggering step back as she began to run her mouth again, returning to the bitch-tastic version of herself that Screech had hastily come to loathe. It was better when he was telling his story and she had shut her trap, but that moment had ended and now only bullshit and opinions flowed freely out of her.

It wasn't that important what she thought. Here was this obnoxious stranger trying to make sense of an event that happened to him. Gradually the things that the dark girl said began to hit Screech and roll right off of him. He was still angry, still hurting and the trauma was fresh in his mind - but he was done with her. Done with all of the explaining. Nobody else could judge what happened to him because it was his life and it was over.

Good thing I don't give a rat's ass what some rogue thinks, he snipes right back at her following the mention of her departure. It would take some time for Screech to mull over this entire conversation and decide how much of it was worth remembering—he would surely remember this girl in the future, and wouldn't spare a second of his life to aid her should she need it—but for now he waited for her to leave. To facilitate things he began to maneuver around her but - because fate was cruel - every move she made to leave was mirrored by himself, so that they were repeatedly blocking eachother's path.