1 GIANNA
The day started like any other. Nothing out of the ordinary until lunchtime, that was. Up until then, nothing seemed obvious.
Nothing felt off or unusual about the day until that point, when the sound of screaming suddenly filled the school canteen and grabbed everyone’s attention.
The usually loud dinner hall fell into complete silence as everyone’s eyes diverted towards the direction of the screaming.
It was coming from the corridor behind the double doors in the canteen that led to the sports hall.
The eeriness was unnerving as everybody sat in silence as the screams continued.
Eventually, it all became clear when I saw her.
An indescribable pain consumed my body as I watched the double doors fly open.
Mr Peters, our PE teacher, was practically propping her up, along with Ms Hitchfield, the deputy headmistress of Sandbroke High School and head of the music department.
Their arms were looped through hers as she resisted and fought to return to the situation they were dragging her from.
For most, it still wasn’t clear what was happening, but for me, I knew.
I knew exactly what had happened.
She looked distraught.
Broken, as the tears slid down her beautiful face.
I wanted to run, as fast as I could, to find him, to confirm my suspicions were correct, but instead, I sat tight.
As tightly as I possibly could.
Impatiently waiting as her cries and screams disappeared somewhere into the distance.
Where had they taken her?
If it weren’t for causing a scene, I would’ve let instinct take over, but I chose to push it away.
Nobody knew of my involvement until now. They didn’t need to know from here.
Except it was gut-wrenching, knowing there was nothing I could do but sit and wait, praying I was wrong.
Mistaken, but moments later, as Ms Hitchfield reappeared, racing back through the canteen with two paramedics in tow and disappearing through those doors, it only confirmed my suspicions further.
The sound of them slamming closed behind them echoed throughout the silence, and that’s when the noise crept back in.
The gradual sounds of panicked chatter and gossip amongst my peers filled the air, and I did my hardest to hold back the tears.
Fearing the worst.
Fearing I might never see him again.
Secretly screaming on the inside, until I felt a single tear escape down my cheek.
Wiping it away as fast as it fell, and hoping nobody had noticed.
Let me rewind.
Nothing about today stood out. There were no warning signs.
Maybe it’s because we didn’t have maths until this afternoon. Double maths. The last two periods of the day.
My worst day. Now, for more reasons than one.
Maybe if we had maths this morning, I would’ve noticed.
Or even science.
Along with science, expressive arts were the only two subjects we shared. Maybe if we had either one of those classes this morning, I would’ve noticed him missing.
Instead, it was a miserable, mundane Wednesday.
I arrived on the school bus. I walked into the school through the side door, not far from the main entrance, which led straight into the social area.
I noticed him first, standing there from the corner of my eye as I passed, so I knew he was at school today.
He was goofing around with his mates, just like any other normal school day.
He seemed happy. There were no reasons to suspect a thing.
We stole a glance at one another in passing.
Nothing too obvious, but every time, it caused the butterflies in my stomach to flutter, bringing an unexpected smile to my face.
In those split seconds of passing, before I left the social area and made my way to my form room, I realised that it might've been the last time I ever saw him.
See him.
The thought shattered my heart into a million pieces.
Slowly, I was losing the strength to hold myself together.
After morning registration on Wednesdays, I had double English, morning break, history, and French.
I didn’t need to think too hard about whether or not I saw him at morning break.
I didn’t.
I spent it in the library.
The only times our paths ever crossed in the library were during English. Never breaks or lunchtimes.
At some point, during English, morning break, history for me, geography for him, then French, had he gone missing?
My guesses were on geography or possibly French, which led us to this very moment.
Lunch.
He’d gone unnoticed by everyone, except one.
The girl.
The girl whom Mr Peters and Ms Hitchfield were restraining.
Had any of the teachers noticed?
Had they suspected anything unusual during their morning of teaching?
Probably not.
I sat with a range of emotions surging through me. A mixture of disgust, anger, fear, pain, worry, guilt, and jealousy, but most of all, sadness.
The uncertainty of not knowing what had happened became unbearable, and judging by the blood stains on her crisp, white school shirt, I knew it was serious, and I knew I wouldn’t like the outcome.
I already knew for certain he wasn’t sitting in the canteen eating lunch with the rest of us.
I already knew this because subconsciously, I’d already searched for him.
He was like a magnet. I was always drawn to him. He was always pulling me in, so I knew when I was in his presence.
He wasn’t here, and I felt sick. Sick to my stomach.
I searched for the lunch lady. She was usually on the prowl, asking those who had finished eating to leave the canteen and free up spaces, but today I couldn’t see her.
Where was she when I needed her the most?
Where was she when I needed a reason to leave?
I needed to act. I needed to think fast.
I scanned the canteen once more. Everyone was mostly distracted by conversations with those beside them at their lunch tables.
Still carefully watching the double doors as they spoke for further activity, but distracted nonetheless, and I knew this could be my chance.
I stood, opting for the door by the school office that led to the main hall.
Once inside, alone, my black, heeled school shoes hit against the wooden floor as I ran towards the stage.
The same corridor that led to the sports hall was accessible backstage.
Climbing the steps without hesitation, I pushed past the thick, heavy, red velvet curtains until I was behind the stage, eagerly pushing open one of the doors and stumbling out into the dark, empty corridor.
Met with an eerie, cold chill, I couldn’t decide if it usually felt this way as I stood alone, weighing out my options.
To my right was the music room, a supply cupboard, the music practice room, and the sports hall, yet instinct told me to turn left.
Above the loud pounding of my heart, I could hear the sound of voices as I stood listening.
Strained, panicked voices coming from the girls’ changing room, causing me to falter.
Had I got the situation completely wrong?
Had I put two and two together and let my imagination run away with itself?
Was it paranoia?
For a split second, I felt a wave of relief until I heard a name.
His name.
I raced towards the girls’ changing room without a second thought or worry about who might catch me.
The door was open, and at first glance, the room was empty, but I could still hear the voices.
‘Tim, can you hear me? Stay with us, Tim.’
I was certain he couldn’t hear them, but they were running through instructions anyway.
I ran towards the old communal showers that I’m certain nobody has ever used since the school was originally built, with its original fixtures and fittings.
Uncertain if they still work.
The thought was a fleeting distraction as I felt the blood drain from my body.
He was lying on the cold, hard ground, unresponsive, whilst the paramedics desperately tried to save him.
“Gianna Reeves. You shouldn’t be in here!” Ms Hitchfield scolded, briefly catching the shock or annoyance on her face as she looked up and spotted me.
Watching her features blur, the voices became distant and muffled as my body hit hard against the floor.
