finding sarah

My name is Atlas Mendler. Up until a week ago, I was a normal teenage boy. Well, what seemed normal to me. It’s my senior year, and every day I wake up a little too late to be the ass crack of dawn, for school. I mindlessly check and scroll through the various feeds only to rush through pulling on my joggers and tee to get ready for school.

I don’t usually eat breakfast, but that morning, I did. Blueberry muffins.

I then walk out the door with a farewell to my parents, scrambling to get my keys and unlock the door. It had been a pretty nice fall thus far, the sun always shining and birds always chirping. It seemed to always be warm day with a nice breeze, even at seven in the morning.

It’s not usually raining, but that morning, it was. I forgot my umbrella.

I almost always pull into the parking lot with minutes to spare, grabbing the closest parking spot available and running inside. Barely making it for my first class, I’d sit there and listen to Mrs. Samson’s cheery announcements, rolling my eyes at every corny line.

Her voice is not usually so somber, but that morning, it was. I felt numb.

After my first block, I take the longest path to my next block, the path that she takes, just to catch a glimpse at her beautiful smile. Some days she was dressed nice, in jeans and a blouse, other days she was in sweats with her long blonde hair pulled up into a messy bun.

She doesn’t usually miss school, but that morning, she did. I was distant.

We have third block together, and we sit right across from each other. I don’t think she ever really notices me, and she only would talk to me when she missed something the math teacher had said. Sometimes I would notice her staring off in the distance, her eyes glazed over with sadness.

Her desk wasn’t usually empty, but that afternoon, it was. I wonder what she was thinking.

After school I’d walk out to my car alone, barely looking up and observing my surroundings. Somedays she would walk beside me, asking about my day and I would mumble nervously my answers. That’s just who she was.

I usually don’t walk to my car alone, but that afternoon, I did. I cried in my car.

I should’ve told her I love her.

-

“Students, today we take a moment of silence to remember Sarah Overman, who last night, tragically passed away by taking her life.”

{excerpt from a novel I'll never write #13}