Dancing on Eggshells

This is the part when I learn my wrongs and stuff(under editing)

"So shit happened and now we're in a war zone
Except you guys have been fighting and been aboned
I've just been a lazy bum and crying a lot
But I feel really bad about making you guys dress up as transvestites and ruining your lives
So I'm gonna sing a little song and probably bring you to tears and make your emotions die
Oh!

Winona , my Noni
Named after Winona Ryder
You are a brider
Im sorry I cursed in your face and made you cry
I know you were wearing base
If I could, I would get you new base to make up for one I ruined
Except I'm broke
Oh!

Violet, my Vilo
I'm sorry I let you down
I sorry if I made you drown in tears
Tears are actually good for the body
If you don't cry, you might die for some weird reason!
Anyway, I'm sorry
Oh!

Chorus
I'm sorry I screwed up your lives
It was selfish and despicable
You're all really good people
You make me happy!
You all deserves medals for being good people
Oh!

Jayden, my male bae
I'm sorry for making you fail
I know I bailed on you
When all you've been is good and holy
You deserve a medal for all your holyness
But I looked online and they don't make medals for being like you
Oh!

Quinn, my pin of warmth
I'm sorry I wasn't there for you
I love you no matter who you are
I don't care who you love
I don't care who you shag
As long as your heart flutters  like a jag
I'm sorry I was a terrible friend
But you will forever be a hipster superstar
Oh!

Chorus

Oh Emma, you sweet innocent soul
What would the world do without you
I'm sorry
Ohhhhhhh
Oh Maia, you sweet lullaby
What would the sun do without you
I'm sorry
Ohhhh

Chorus

Oh, I'm so sorry guys"

When I was done, everyone clapped. Before I knew it, I was being squeezed to death by all my friends. A group hug was formed. I could feel all my friends' arms on my shoulders, my head, even someone's elbow in my face. I couldn't  see anything properly as arms and bodies were blocking my eyes, but I could see love and happiness.
"You haven't paid me,like, yet".
In between a space to breathe in our group hug, I could say Kevin's stupid face staring at me .
"Piss off, Kevin!" Maia yelled.
Despite Maia's yell, the hug wasn't broken. We all just stood in the middle of the library in our coddle, not caring if an earthquake struck the school or Barnes and Nobles announced an 100% off sale.
We would stay here for however long the love and energy was meant to last.
"But you haven't paid!" Kevin yelled, "That's , like, fraud!"
"Kevin, how's about a discount"? Kayden suggested, also involved in the hug.
"But you guys are ,like, horrible people! You don't deserve discounts! You didn't even let me thank Jesus before I played!"
"PISS OFF!" We all yelled.
I then heard the sound of Kevin shoes stomping on the carpet. As I heard the library doors open, Kevin yelled: "You'll hear from my lawyers!"
He then slammed the doors and my friends and I stood together for a few more minutes.

Soon after the hug broke, everyone wanted to go and eat in the cafeteria. Yet, I felt I needed time to think. My friends didn't really understand what there was to think about, but I didn't either. In order to find my thoughts, I sat on the floor of the  library and just stared into space.
For ten minutes, I thought as much as I could think.
I thought about everything that I had experienced in my first year of high school.
I thought of the party, my first time getting drunk, the cop who caught us, Celeste's first impression, Rocky Horror , Kayden, Halloween, Thanksgiving, burning the turkey, Christmas, the bobble heads, Celeste throwing the painting, Wendy's nervous breakdown, my first kiss, New Year's Eve...everything.
As I thought , I caught myself looking at a pin board. It was a huge one hung next to the doorway. There were articles about literature hung on the board, quotes and other articles.
As I stared at the board, the thought of Celeste shot into my head.
I don't why I started to think of her, it was almost like the thought of her and been stuck physically through my ear and floated all the way up to my brain. Perhaps it's because I had sorted out things with my friends, my boyfriends, my mom and I had made-up when she finally decided to admit she was also wrong. Part of me felt like I had made up for all my wrongs-but I hadn't. Celeste was still sitting in Terryhill: staring at the ceiling all day and hoping that one day she would wake up not feeling overwhelming happiness or gut wrenching depression. Hoping that she could walk out of the hospital with a voice telling her 'you're alright, you're sane and fine'.
But...how I was supposed to make-up with her when she was retaliating any normal human conversation? What were the doctors even doing to help her recover and return to society? Did they really think that someone like Celeste could heal from painting her emotions out on a canvas? Talking about her feeli