Forgotten

         She sat in the back of the classroom, her head tilted down, pencil in hand. She made sure nobody could see what she was writing. She didn't say anything, didn't talk to anybody. It seemed like she didn't pay attention in class. But somehow she managed to pass all her classes. When a teacher called on her she looked up briefly, stared them in the eye, then lowered her head back down. The teachers never insisted she answer. They would just call on another student.

         She walked the halls alone. She went straight from one class to another, and never stopped to talk. When she did stop, she stopped because somebody was in her way. She didn't say anything to them, just stood there and gave them a piercing glare. When they saw her they quickly moved aside, and she continued on her way.

         On the bus she sat in her seat by herself, staring out the window. She didn't goof off, or crack jokes. She ignored the other students on the bus if they made fun of her.

         She wore only one color. Black, and never anything else. She wore long sleeve shirts, or a black jacket. Her jeans were simple and plain, as were her shoes.

         Her eyes were black, and mysterious, never showing emotion. Her hair was also black, and always straight. When she was writing her hair covered her face like a curtain. She never wore any make up, or jewelry. Her face had no scars or blemishes, and was a very pale color. Her hands had small cuts on them. Only one had a diffinent shape. It was a five pointed star. Some students said that there were thousands of cuts on her arms. Cuts of times when she tried to kill herself. But nobody had really seen them. They had all been too afraid to ask.

         But now, she is gone.

         They did find a variety of papers in her locker. Most of them were drawings, done in pencil. Drawings of everybody that were in her classes, and her teachers. They were perfect, capturing the soul on paper. They were so detailed and looked like they had taken her forever to draw. But in reality, had only taken a couple of minutes.

         The rest of the papers were poems. On about every subject you could possibly think of. There was a poem written about all the teachers and their classes. Poems on death, love, fear, and suicide. Poems on the sunset, the sky, and the moon. Many poems were on freedom and the soul.

         Nobody talks about her anymore. It seems like they have all forgotten about her. To themselves they wonder what happened to her. Did she kill herself? Did she run away? Did she fall into a swirling abyss? Nobody knows for certain.

         But, it doesn't matter. She is gone, and forgotten. Once again, she is the forgotten girl. The one nobody paid any attention to or cared about. She disappeared, and is lost forever.