"Elsa!" I called, as I walked into the library one morning. We were in eighth grade then. Or maybe seventh...I'm not quite sure. All those years sort of ran together in my mind.
The point was, after I called her name, there was no answer. Because she wasn't there.
My mind took an overly-long time to process that. It was like my mind was doing flips, trying to figure out where she was, if she was coming back, and if she wasn't, how I would survive.
I stood there in the middle of the library for a long time. For some reason, people would walk by me and give me these pitying looks. None of them told me to get to class or anything.
I suppose all of that added up to something bad, and I probably realized as such then as well. But I couldn't push myself to ask anyone any questions. Eventually, the principal came in and told me what happened.
I screamed. That much I do remember. I don't know exactly what I said, though no-doubt it was Elsa's name, over and over again.