The crimson Stain on the white Sweater

"I was standing in the hallway outside my old middle school classroom, waiting for a friend to return a borrowed sweater. When I looked down at what I was wearing—my favorite white knitted sweater—there was a huge, dark crimson stain spreading across the entire front. It was wet and heavy, cold against my chest, but I couldn't remember getting hurt or where it came from. I felt this sudden, stomach-dropping panic that everyone in the hall was going to think I had done something terrible. All of a sudden, I was inside a dimly lit laundromat, frantically rubbing hand soap into the fabric under a running faucet. The water was turning rusty red, spilling all over my shoes, but the stain on the wool just kept getting darker and spreading toward the sleeves. I kept trying to hide it under my arms every time the door opened, my chest so tight I could barely breathe, completely terrified that I wouldn't be able to clean it before someone walked in and caught me."