A devastation

A strange thing happened to me once. A friend came to visit and stayed late. At half past ten, she went home. As she was leaving, we were talking on the phone, and she told me she saw me in the kitchen window. I told her to stop kidding—I was on the balcony at the time. And she kept repeating that she saw me in the kitchen. Then she came closer to the window and said, "But that wasn't you!" That's when I got scared, because I knew I was home alone at the time.

When I left the balcony, I heard a clanging sound in the kitchen. When I went in, I saw all the plates, cups, and mugs lying on the floor—everything was broken, and some of the shards had some kind of red stains on them. I, of course, thought it was blood (although I still don't know exactly what it was). I felt sick and ran into the other room. 

Later, my grandmother came back home and ran into my room in horror: "Why did you trash the kitchen?!" But I couldn't answer—I was still in shock...