When I was 12, I moved to a new school. My mom, who recently got divorced, got a better job so we had to move even though I didn’t want to. But I had to. My old school was very far from where we were moving so I transferred to this new school. It was the first day in class and I was trying to leave a good impression. As every normal teacher would do when a new student arrives, she asked me for my name, last name, where I was from and so on and so on. After that „interview“, I was looking around the class and trying to figure out how the groups in this new school worked. The so called „nerds“ as you can guess, were in the first row and so called „cool“ kids were in the last row. Then the bell rang. I took a subway sandwich from my bag and sat at a table, I don’t know why but I thought people wanted to get to know me but oh boy was I wrong. I was like a ghost there and nobody gave a crap that I was there. They just continued to talk in their groups. After that, we went back to class and I took a seat in the second last row in the class until some piece of s**t slammed me on the ground. We were just staring at each other for a longer period. I was confused and he was full of hate. I could have kicked his ass easily but there were five of them, so odds were against me. He explained to me in his „nice“ way that the last row was reserved for students who were in the class from the beginning. I knew that dipshit just didn’t want me around. After that „pleasant“ experience, I arrived home, did my homework for tomorrow and just thought to myself: ,,Mom why did you do this to me.“ But there was nothing I could do. Next day I got to class and all the seats were taken but one. It was next to a girl, somewhere my height, maybe a few months younger than me, but I had no choice, so I sat next to her. I was observing here for a few seconds and I noticed a detail that she had a strand the front of her hair dyed white. I realised that we were both introverts so I didn’t want to bother her, even though I know how tough it is speaking for an introvert. She never told me her name so I just called her White locks because of her wavy hair. And for that moment, I felt accepted and felt like I belonged somewhere but that didn’t last for long. She wasn’t around for a while it was like she disappeared. I needed to find her. I stole a spare key to her locker and I opened it, it was empty, just a black locker and nothing else. It did smell like new paint, so I took a pen and scratched the surface and saw „Andie“ written. One of the janitors found me and took the key. I was questioned everyone but no-one knew her. It was like she never existed.
I’m 15 now and I heard that the school will be demolished soon so I went to see it one last time. The corridors were empty and if you listened carefully, you could hear laughter of happy children who went there. All of a sudden, I heard her laughter. I was getting stronger and it was coming from the hall. It lead me down to a boiler room. I know it sounds cliché, but I went downstairs and what I saw still haunts me to this day. Pictures from us before she went missing but something was odd. On every picture where it was supposed to be both of us, it was just me and no one else. One image caught my attention it was me at this moment and she stood right behind me. She was nowhere to be seen, so I ran out of that darn place. As I was walking home, an image downloaded to my phone. It was her smiling like she wanted me to see that „archive“.
All I could do was laugh as I realised I really had friend that never existed.
