{twelve}
not her
-
hey mandy, it's liam. just wondering how you are?
i send it, after spending far too many hours tossing around in my bed on a mundane saturday night. overcome with uncontrollable urges of wanting and desperately needing to know where she is. wondering if i could just bite my cheek and succumb to my habitual behavior, which is to hunt for her. discover her hanging around town like a pretty little phantom, as if i had been set back in time, never once recovering that salvable part of myself to stop my compulsivity. the itch to have her in my grasp and in my control — i would always have that loud, twisted voice in the back of my mind.
would she be shopping with all of her friends, all of them inevitably curling over with laughter at my pathetic text-message? or had she made up with patrick by rooting each other to death for all of their lost time? or maybe she's partying her brains out and just having so much fun, fed by nothing but hedonism and her irresistible youth. but somehow i know, horribly deep down, that none of that is true. sure, in the time i had spent stalking her every move, i thought i had her figured out as some shallow blonde with an absorbed self interest.
but, almost unnervingly, i've learned that she is everything and more. she's a kind, gentle, compassionate human being that i only have the luxury of knowing — and i'm basically the human equivalent of dog shit.
she never replies and i spend the hours i should be sleeping fretting over what i must've done wrong. if i had come on too strong, too late, too quick. if the gashes and bruises littered across my face scared her off. if she figured out what i am. if i ruined it. yet, as i gape through my window at the incoming dawn of a new sunday, i feel the tuffs of hair at the nape of neck raise with unease.
at an unearthly hour where the light outside is merely a dull grey, the headlights of a vehicle flash a blinding glare through the crooks of my room and my instinct is to hide my paralyzed body under the blankets. there's an explosive slam of a car door which only causes me to suddenly twitch awake with my eyes the size of saucers. i had felt as though i had experienced a night terror in my sleep, the scent of my strong premonition crushing my lungs in a monstrous grasp. only having a sliver of remembrance of the terrible dream, as every beating second that pounds through me, the memory of it slips past my fingers.
but unmistakably, something had felt profoundly wrong.
-
i wondered if i was still panicking in my unconsciousness when i entered the classroom to find fellow faces white with fear. inaudible voices murmuring softly in connate panic, scattered eyes flickering across the room in search for something unidentified. in the back of my english class, i observe my peers hanging on the edge of their seat and gaping at the door for the teacher to finally arrive. idiotically, i had considered if everyone had forgotten to do their homework and that's what caused such a disturbance.
however, i knew that i had only been kidding myself when miss peters entered her unusually quiet classroom ten minutes late.
her head is cast down and her hands are fidgeting across her skirt, shoulders arched over with distress. i chew on my finger nail as i witness my typically joyful teacher wipe down the whiteboard, her hands trembling with her distracted movement. as if she is begging for the will power to greet us for the day planned. as the whispers build in unsteady rhythms, eventually she leans across the front of her desk and gapes at us with her lips parted speechlessly. her eyes are undoubtedly wet with tears, fluttering across the wrinkles surrounding her friendly features. my heart sinks at the sight, feeling my body flinch with every pin drop and purse of her mouth around futile words.
"hello... uh — morning." she swallows her peachless whisper, blinking hard, "i apologize for being late, as many teachers have been made aware of a change of plans today... the, uh, head teacher has advised the entire school for an assembly in the auditorium during this class period."
she states with one hand grasping her wrist, looking at us feebly. the entirety of the class raises from their seats without her usual persuasion, the chairs screeching across the cork flooring. straightening my shirt, we all stand in a line and follow miss peters out of the door, ambling down the halls with ambiguous questions floating to the surface of our minds. the whole school is now hanging around in their class groups, gaping and humming to one another. as if someone might just have the answer to what is happening.
the auditorium is quite large, with the velvet curtains across the theatre stage closed and a microphone standing lonesome on the platform. i sit where our class is designated, next to a concerned, red-headed girl who somehow looked familiar. but she hadn't been who i was looking for, as almost-immediately i notice a missing person and one particular chair empty across a hall packed with hundreds of students. gazing around at the members of staff standing along the perimeters of the room, my eyes catch onto a certain navy blue cluster of men. police.
i can almost hear the words i only wish to ask aloud, ringing through me — why are we all here? why does everyone look frightened? why don't i know what's going on?
i hear the clacking of the principal's heels before i finally see her walking amongst the crowd. she is dressed immaculately, her chestnut hair cut short around her neck and her glasses hanging low on her nose. she has papers in her hand, shuffling them through her clasp, as she climbs the couple stairs towards the podium. the woman stands tall and places her sheets down, leaning forward into the microphone with a firm voice, "please quieten down, students."
a wave of stillness washes over the crowd as i heave a deep breath into my lungs. the principal adjusts the mic, running a quick hand through her hair and trying not to crack under the pressure of the entire room. everything just feels so undeniably heavy — as if i'm falling down a rabbit hole and can't find the light. the policemen are securely lined across the room with crossed arms and lips held in tight frowns. they don't falter, they don't stare at anyone except the head teacher in charge, they don't give anything away.
the woman in spotlight releases a breath through her nostrils, staring down at her papers.
"now, as some of you may been made aware of, i'm afraid we have been given some devastating news. the entire school board has made the decision to notify our peers due to the severity of this incident and if perhaps anyone would have any answers to some misunderstandings that have in this current investigation taking place. police and counselors are on stand-by for information and guidance some of you may have on this situation that completely shocks and saddens us all." her voice is almost monotonous as everything starts to click in all of the worst ways. her eyes close briefly and she chooses to disband what she has written down, mouth opening with tangible affliction.
i find myself reeling, like my heart might just tear a hole through my chest and leave me to drain of all my blood. i audibly hear the principal swallow, gripping the sides of the wooden podium and trying to stop the rattle that rumbles through the audience.
she lets her eyes flicker across the room and i can almost see the glisten in them from the distance i sit at. my hands feel numb with the palpable restlessness that hangs across the room, as she reveals her sincere anguish with just a few sentences, "never in all of my years of teaching have i ever experienced such a horrific occurrence and... and... i-i'm completely heartbroken by what i have to announce today." she releases and i'm examining the room, finger nails digging into the flesh of my knees.
i can't find zayn — i can't find him anywhere.
the room muddles with the commotion and spiraling unanswered questions. murmured voices clutter around the room like tidal waves, crashing and causing reckless destruction. with the flick of our heads, twisting around to glare at whoever seems to have knowledge of anything. impatient breaths of air and groans of exhaustion, it hits the back of my spine like a mallet of dismay.
the woman swiftly continues despite the world feeling like it slows down. i feel the crackle of her words scorch and blister, "amanda seymour... uh, e-excuse me—" coughing, i can only hear her hesitant gargle when she says her name.
mandy, my heart stops. amanda seymour, five feet and seven inches, blonde hair about yay high, the prettiest smile you'd ever seen. cheerleader with a punk boyfriend and a heart of gold. she's got the entire town falling in love with her and she has no idea. a future so bright that it blinds folks into a staggering stupor. you know her? come on, surely you know of her?
it's been a long time, hasn't it?
don't forget about me overnight!
is it okay if i sit with you?
i know you deserve more than that.
oh my god, liam. what... what happened?
—just wondering how you are?
she hadn't ignored me. she hadn't done anything wrong. she hadn't done anything to deserve this.
the room is crawling along a thread of hope as the head teacher begins to find solace in reading the typed out words across her page, "—miss seymour was found deceased on sunday evening by the police unit on search for a missing person. she was later discovered by search dogs and examined as a victim of... of homicide. police forces and detectives are now working around the clock to find amends for her family and our town due to this horrifying catastrophe. however, i must make this clear once and for all, as this event will be covered by media outlets and i refuse rumors to spread amongst us. this is a complete and utter tragedy, let us not forget,"
the words fall from the principal's mouth, but everyone is reticent. we are all paralytically unstirred, sinking into our seats and our bodies fuming with the distaste of horror. the low buzz of the fluorescent lights above inundate me with a pounding migraine, as the throbbing across my skin reaches the tips of my ears. my stomach twists bitterly, heavy claws tearing apart the vessels pulsing across my chest and scraping me with a panic. setting my veins to smolder.
but i'm cold. so fucking cold.
yet, i feel nothing but the urgency to run until the muscles in my limbs wither away into decay. i needed to get up and look for her, but i'm shock-still — come on, mandy. i always know where you are. where have you gone this time? are you hanging around in your lovely bedroom? are you having fun somewhere special? this can't be true... this is just a dream, right? you're still here — i saw you only a couple days ago. wake up, liam, wake up!
how? how?
"i was never once prepared in my training for this and i'm deeply apologetic for what loss you all may feel at losing someone so dear to all of our hearts. amanda was a happy, spirited girl with many achievements and friends — and i-i can't believe how traumatic and scary this must be for all of you to hear. we all understand and empathize deeply with what you are all feeling, you are not alone in this." the principal concludes and my throat burns with the need to scream. willing myself to stop shaking with something anxious and hideous sparking inside of me. who had touched mandy? who had left her that way? who had done such a thing to someone so adored?
was — was. it sticks to my teeth like molasses.
the incendiary patter in my chest blooms into a flame, choking me with furious smoke that crawls up my throat, twisting my expressions awfully. the room is still stuck on their inhale, still clutching onto each other for comfort. the red-headed girl beside me is crying faintly as i stare at her, now realizing she is one of mandy's close friends. tears roll down her pink cheeks, her hands rushing to her lips to stop her sobs from being loud. i look away, fuck, i don't know where to look. this can't be happening, not her. not her.
"investigatory interviews will begin take place over these next few weeks with all pupils being questioned on what you may know of miss seymour's whereabouts over last weekend. we only want this to be solved as soon as possible, as this cannot fester or tarnish such a young girl's life into something that it wasn't." the principal declares and suddenly i see a familiar shade of electric cherry hair amongst a crowd of aghast teenagers.
patrick sits closer to the front, his hardened eyes trained onto the floor as one of his friends wraps an arm around his shoulder for unwanted consolation. everyone seems to be staring at him, as he sits terribly motionless.
"i understand that this may be far too fresh and emotional for you all, but the quicker this is resolved, the faster justice will be served to her and her loved ones. students, please feel free to talk to any of us teachers for a shoulder to cry on. we are all here for you and your needs for this awful — awful time."
everything begins to fade into a blur of mourning and wailing, as people disperse across the auditorium towards their friends or teachers who stand nearby. but i can't get out of the chair, i can't even breathe.
—because mandy is gone.
-