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She vanished just as the year ended. The girl. The 17-year-old who was ready to start her 5th and last year of high-school. The bubbly, enthusiastic, teenager who was always ready to tackle something new. She wasn’t kidnapped, killed or taken, she simply … disappeared.&nbsp; I don’t have a lot of friends. The few I do, I keep at arm's length. Why spend time with them when I can be alone? School is fine. I don’t pay attention, and no one pays attention to me. It’s easy that way. I keep to myself. No one makes conversation with me in the halls, no one walks me to class, no one makes idle chat about the last football game. I like it that way.&nbsp; They first met in the hallway at school. She was struggling to open her locker, he reached over and opened it for her. A smile was exchanged. She found out they were in a couple of classes together. They talked. My parents worked long jobs. They hardly saw each other, until they started seeing other people. That was when the arguments started. 15-year-old me didn’t like the arguments. I stayed in my room. 17-year-old me still does. I like it that way. Soon, they were talking every day. She walked him to class, just to get a little bit of extra time with him, and ate lunch with him whenever she could. She loved to be around him, and it seemed he loved to be around her.&nbsp; My mum says I’ve changed. I don’t believe her. Things around me have changed, like the trees turning bare and Liv not making eye contact with me. But I haven't changed. “You used to be so happy,” she says. I’m not unhappy either. I just seem to exist. I like it that way. He talked to her, made her feel special, laughed at her jokes and gave her new ones. He taught her guitar, he helped her with chemistry, he read the books she loved so that he could talk to her about them. He was perfect.&nbsp; My dad doesn’t have time for me. He says that he’s busy, but it’s just an excuse to stay away from Mum. I don’t mind. It’s sort of like what I said to Liv when she asked me earlier this year. “I’m just busy,”. I’m not. I like it that way.&nbsp; She soon realised she was falling for him. Her friends didn’t approve. “He’s using you,” one said. “Haven’t you heard the rumours?” said another - though it didn’t make any difference. Even when her best friend Olivia warned her against going for him, she couldn’t help it. She was in love. My teachers leave me be. I don’t try in class, and they figured out soon enough nothing was going to change that. I still hear them whispering, though. “She was such a bright, happy student,” they say. I’m not anymore. I like it that way. Love seems like a big word for a just-turned-17-year-old, but that is what it was. Everything about him was amazing, and she was pulled towards him like the moon to the earth. She trusted him with her whole heart. After all, he was perfect, right? He would never hurt her. My therapist says I can’t keep writing like this. She thinks it’s too blunt and I need to be more positive. She asks me too many questions. Especially “What happened”, “What caused this?”, and, her favourite, “You can talk to me,”. No, I won’t. No, I can’t. I don’t want to talk. I like it that way. He said he loved her too. Whenever they were together he would always tell her how beautiful she was, how curvy she was, how her hair was long and lustrous. She should have noticed how he only talked about her body. But she didn’t. He was just trying to compliment her, why would she complain? I used to get a lot of questions at the start of the year. “Why are you so withdrawn?” “Are you okay?” “I’m here for you,” . Turns out they weren’t, as the questions started fading off when they realised they weren’t going to get an answer out of me. Liv stayed the longest, though. “You can talk to me,” she would repeat. I can’t. I can’t talk to anyone. They would say it was my fault. It probably was. I shouldn’t have become so close to him, I shouldn’t have trusted him, I shouldn’t have worn a spaghetti-strap top that day. I’m better off in baggy, anyway. I like it that way. Then came that day. The day that changed everything. Doing their homework together, a normal task, turned into something unspeakable. He left her there, shaking, staring at the wall, wishing she could just disappear. She wished her parents had been home, instead of out at the movies, she wished she had someone, anyone, there to stop it. But there wasn’t. It was done. Liv used to be my best friend. We could talk for hours and hours and not get bored of each other. We would spend almost every day at each other’s houses, and her family became my family. I loved it. I could talk about anything and she would never judge me. But she would. If I told her what happened. She would agree how everyone else would agree, that it was my fault. I’m not ready for the confirmation. That’s why it’s better to stay away. I like it that way.&nbsp; He had taken her innocence. Her purity. She was embarrassed and ashamed. She started to withdraw from everything she loved. Activities that had once been her greatest joy, became her greatest reminder of where she went wrong. Her friends were no better. She knew they would never believe her, and if they did they would be on his side. She couldn’t talk to anyone. She couldn't trust anyone. Now, it was her against the world. She was on her own. Every day is the same. School, work, home, sleep, repeat. It is simple and uninteresting. I don’t get close to people anymore, so there is nothing extra. I don’t have hobbies, or favourite activities, or shows to watch on Netflix. I don’t like running, talking, or computer games. I like reading, long walks and doodling. I am Evangeline Margeret Smith. This is my life. I like it that way … I think. She vanished just as the year ended. The girl. The 17-year-old who was ready to start her 5th and last year of high-school. The bubbly, enthusiastic, teenager who was always ready to tackle something new. Evangeline wasn’t kidnapped, killed or taken, she simply … withdrew.&nbsp;

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Withdrawn

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