Monster ✔

Sam's Disappearance

I rush towards my room, feeling the urgency in the air. As always, I swiftly change out of my dress and into a cozy sweater and trousers. The strict dress code only applies when I'm outside, but once I'm indoors, I revel in the freedom to wear whatever I want. I tie my hair back and put on a hat, finding comfort in this familiar routine. The fabric of the sweater feels like a gentle embrace, shielding me from the cold reality outside.

After a quick check in the mirror, I make my way downstairs to grab a bite to eat. My parents are, as usual, not home. Their demanding jobs keep them working late into the night, granting me the liberty to dress and act as I please.

Following my meal, I settle in front of the TV for some entertainment. Homework was abolished a few years ago, a decision made by the higher-ups. If only everything in life were as effortless as that, perhaps my days wouldn't feel so challenging.

After an hour or two of flipping through channels, I find nothing captivating on TV. I decide to retreat upstairs and prepare for bed. I grab a book to pass the time; it's too early to sleep just yet. The words on the pages offer a temporary escape from the monotony of my existence, transporting me to distant lands and forgotten adventures.

At ten in the evening, the sound of my parents' car pulling into the driveway catches my attention. I swiftly stash the book away and slip under the covers. They mustn't know I'm still awake, as they would not take kindly to it. Both of my parents are strict enforcers of rules and are unsympathetic towards those who aren't. It's just another obstacle for me to navigate in my daily life.

The next morning unfolds like any other. It's Tuesday, which means adhering to the prescribed dress code of blue attire for girls and jeans paired with a white shirt for boys. Perfect makeup is expected before catching the bus, a routine that repeats itself without fail.

However, this particular morning is different. Upon entering the classroom, I notice that all my classmates, except for Sam, are already present. This strikes me as odd, as none of them typically enjoy arriving early.

I take my seat at my desk and only then do I notice the reason for everyone's early arrival. My desk has been defaced with graffiti. The words stare back at me accusingly, a stark reminder of the intolerance that lurks beneath the surface of our supposedly perfect society.

I rise from my seat and fetch a sponge, attempting to appear unfazed by the vandalism. But inside, a storm rages, threatening to consume me with its fury and despair.

Without exchanging glances with anyone, I return to my desk and start to clean off the graffiti. Each stroke of the sponge feels like an act of defiance, a silent protest against the forces that seek to crush our individuality and silence our voices.

After a few minutes, the door swings open, and two men in white coats enter the room. "Attention, everyone. These gentlemen have something important to share!" Miss Brock follows them in, her diminutive stature somehow commanding the attention of the entire class. We're all eager to know the reason for their unexpected presence.

"We regret to inform you of some distressing news. Your classmate, Sam Collins, has been diagnosed with a serious illness. While the official announcement is pending, there will be no classes tomorrow so that all of you can be present for Sam's surgery..." His voice trails off as the sponge I used to clean my desk slips from my hand and hits the blackboard with a dull thud.

"This can't be happening! When will you realize that it's not an illness?! Surgery won't cure it. It's not something that can be treated. You can't cure something that isn't even an illness!" Before I realize it, I've shouted these words at the men in white coats.