The Disappearance of Samantha Mourey

FOUR

EPISODE #4

Claiming a migraine gave me two days off of school without too many questions asked. By the time Wednesday rolled around, my mom gave me the ultimatum, "Honey, doctors or school?" I knew at some point I'd have to go.

I took my seat on the bus, plugged in and dazed off until 20 minutes later the bus pulled into Stilton. The sky was white with clouds, making the building look dark and ominous as my stomach churned and panic kept me frozen in my seat as other students exited past. An electric touch made me lurch back against the window, I looked up to see Erika's arm retracted, a strange look on her face. "You okay, Sam?" She asked. Her words and gentle tone throwing me further off course. She tilted her head again, I realized, waiting for a response.

Grabbing my backpack, I finally spat out, "Yeah. Yes. Fine." I stammered, standing on uneasy legs, waiting for her to continue to walk past. Once she turned, I checked my arms, my body, for some physical abnormality, something that she might have noticed that lead to this odd encounter but found nothing. I felt my shoulders, covered from the bruises that had been left behind from Sunday night. "I've got places to be Ms. Mourey, let's go!" Cathy shouted, as I grabbed my things, exiting the bus.

To my knowledge, neither Mel nor Amara had called me during the past two days. I welcomed the silence at the time, but now the unknown added to the pit in my stomach as I wondered if there would be some sort of awkwardness to sort through with them at school.

In my absence, Stilton itself had apparently been turned into it's own haunted castle, spider webs and fake spiders hanging around the entrance, and inside, the halls were lined with a mixture of construction paper decorations, streamers, and skeletons. I arrived at my locker, left the portion of my backpack that I didn't need and headed into my first period class.

Something felt off. I reminded myself that it was me. I was off, per usual. I wondered if I would see Zack today, and felt sick, followed by a feeling of pathetic-ness for letting something so stupid bother me. It was not that big of a deal, I repeated to myself, over and over. Move on. Still, I sat in class, feeling nauseous, dizzy. If there were no teacher at all, I wouldn't have noticed I was so deep inside my head. My hands cramped and I realized I had been gripping the desk tightly for most of the class, steadying myself. Maybe Mr. Murtaugh realized this because the bell rang without him calling on me once.

I made it through all of my morning classes without seeing Mel, Amara, or Zack. Made it through is a relative term. Focusing on my breathing, steadying myself with heavy grip on my desks, un-convincing myself that I was dying several times. By the time lunch approached, my body already felt like it had been through a storm, but I hadn't realized it was just a pre-cursor for the hurricane. I kept my gaze down and walked to the table we always sat at and took my seat. A few people sat at the opposite end, and I could feel their stares at me, but ignored it, pulling my sandwich out of the bag. After a few minutes had passed, I glanced up to scan the room and quickly spotted them seated at another table, Amara staring at me with a nasty look. As she saw me notice her, and the confusion on my face she whispered something to a girl with dark hair seated next to her and they started to laugh. The rest of the cafeteria sounds went away, all I could hear was her cackle at me from three tables over, as I sat alone, feeling immediately naked as other people stared at me with expressions I couldn't read and whispers I couldn't hear. Something was happening, both in the cafeteria and internally. I felt frozen and also as if I might implode, and in a panic, grabbed my lunch and left.

I didn't waste time debating if leaving was a good idea or not. Once out of the cafeteria, the only thing I could see was the door at the end of the long hallway as I charged toward it. A hand on my shoulder jolted me as I twisted quickly. "If people would god-damn just stop touching me." I turned to see the face of Mr. Anderson who quickly took a step back.