I hate my mom so much right now. She thinks my sister is so perfect and it’s so annoying. I wish I was adopted.

I scribbled these thoughts down on a scrap of notebook paper, and after folding it carefully, I passed it down to my friend Amber. However, the only response I received was a weak smile of consolation, for Mr. Opeges was beginning to glare. For some reason, he actually expected us to listen to whoever this lame guest speaker was.

The speaker began: “I have a story I’d like to share with you all. I want you to close your eyes and imagine my story happening to you or someone you know.”

I liked this idea. It gave me an excuse to sleep through his lecture.

The man continued. “I never attended a public school like all of you. Beginning with kindergarten, my parents had always sent me to this boarding school, which was so isolated from the rest of civilization, that it seemed to be its own little world: it had its own woods, its own creek, and acres of green pasture. And just beyond the boundary of the school’s grounds was a mountain range. Most of us students weren’t much of the adventures type, and so we only saw them from a distance. For most of us, they represented a fantastical world that none of us would ever touch. By the time I was fifteen years old, this other world had very much become a second home to me.

“I spent most of my free time with my friend Aggie, who transferred to the school at the beginning of second grade. Wherever she was, Brandi was too, and so we became a fairly well known threesome. Aggie was always quiet, reserved, and extremely modest. Her most memorable characteristic, though, was her glistening smile that was almost always present on her freckled face. Brandi was Aggie’s best friend, and to tell you the truth, I don’t know that I could tell you much more about her if I tried.

“The day began like any other. We were all gathered in the library, not really studying, but putting up a good enough act to fool the librarians.

“Then Aggie got called down to the office. She seemed rather excited about it, but even Brandi didn’t know why. Aggie had always been a remarkable student, so she wasn’t called down to the office on a regular basis.

“Bitten by curiosity, Brandi and I headed to the office ourselves and waited. We hadn’t been there but a minute before Aggie was leaving the office, her long fingers curled around a very full envelope.

“‘What’s that?’ Brandi asked. ‘Who’s it from?’

“In most general circumstances, students didn’t get mail at our school. Most of our parents had sent us there intending to put us at a distance from them. Therefore, to send mail to the student seemed to defeat the purpose, unless it was terribly important.

“Aggie shifted the envelope as to cover the address with her palm. ‘It’s from Mom and Dad,’ she explained, her smile extending from ear to ear. ‘I’m going to take this up to my dorm, but I’ll see you guys as supper, okay?’

“Brandi and I nodded and went about our day, and when the time came, we went to supper.

“‘So, what did your parents say?’ Brandi asked, wasting no time.

“‘Oh, just this and that,’ Aggie replied, staring intently at her lima beans, as though trying to decide how to dispose of them safely.

“Determined to get an answer, Brandi figured she’d just start guessing things, hoping she stumble across the right one at some point. ‘Is somebody sick? Is somebody hurt? Did somebody die? Is somebody getting married? Is your mom having a baby?’

“Aggie frowned. ‘No, no, no, and… Brandi, you know I’m the only single person left in my family, and my mom can’t have any kids - any more kids, that is.’

“‘Then what is it?’ Brandi asked.

“‘Nothing,’ Aggie insisted, putting her hands up defensively. She looked up at Brandi. ‘They just felt like… nothing.’ Her eyes drifted back to the beans.

“‘Okay, fine,’ said Brandi. ‘If you don’t want to talk about it, we’ll talk about something else. I’ve got an idea. Why don’t we all get together in your dorm and watch a movie tonight?’

“Aggie smiled again, not quite the usual ear-to-ear grin, but it was a smile nevertheless. ‘Sure.’

“The three of us abandoned our lima beans and headed back to the library for another hour.

“‘So, whose turn is it to pick out the movie?’ Brandi asked.

“I told her it was my day, and so I went up to my own dorm to go find a movie. I would meet them in Aggie’s dorm when it got dark. After all, things are generally more fun when you have to break the rules to do them.

“I chose one of Aggie’s favorite horror movies and lounged around until sundown, but that got boring really fast. So I figured I’d just head over to Aggie’s dorm early. Brandi wouldn’t be there yet because it was her turn to bring the junk food, and she took her time at that. Aggie, on the other hand, spent most of her time in her dormitory, and since she usually considered me a welcomed guest, I didn’t see why I shouldn’t go ahead.

“So I made my way to Aggie’s dorm, and I knocked on the door. But I didn’t get an answer, not even from her roommate. Then again, her roommate didn’t usually end up in the room until a second before curfew.

“I tried the doorknob, and it was unlocked. Most people would feel a little uncomfortable going into someone else’s room when they weren’t around, but I’d known Aggie since second grade. If she didn’t want me there, odds are she would have locked the door.

“As I had expected, the room was vacant of people, but it was also far less organized than was typical of Aggie. Her bed was unmade, the mattress was askew, and a dank and ominous feel lingered throughout.

“My O.C.D. wracking going insane, I shifted her mattress back to its proper place, and as I did so, something fell onto the floor: that envelope.

“I didn’t bother looking at who it was from, but dumped its contents onto her floor, checking over my shoulder quickly to ensure I was quite alone.

“Now I really did feel like I was invading her privacy, but my curiosity was getting the best of me. So I rationalized that after I saw what was going on, I would confess to Aggie that I read her mail. We were good friends, and she would forgive me for it.

“Inside the envelope was a sheet of paper, and I was about to read what it said until I saw what else was there: a mini photo album. Opening it and looking at the first picture, I couldn’t figure out why Aggie was being so secretive about all this. The picture seemed to be a couple of years old, for she looked much younger here, and she was wearing heavy eyeliner and all black. True, this was very out of character for her, but nothing worth hiding from her best friends. She actually wore it quite well.

“Then I turned the page. The next picture was of someone’s back, and more disturbing than the last. Scars, though very faint, were clearly visible. The next picture was of someone’s neck, where yet another light scar was visible. The fourth picture was the most distressing of all, showing blood dripping down someone’s wrist.

“I removed the pictures from the album, deciding that they simply couldn’t be of Aggie. I flipped the picture over, hoping there was some sort of caption on the back. I was right. However, initials don’t lie. A.T.: Aggie Thompson.

“I shook my head in disbelief. Clearly, the pictures were of Aggie, but it just didn’t seem like the Aggie I had known for all these years.

“I heard footsteps outside the doors and panicked. I shoved the pictures into my pocket and the envelope back under the mattress. Judging by these pictures, I didn’t know her very well at all. It wasn’t safe to assume she’d forgive me for finding this skeleton in the closet.

“‘Hey, what’re you doing?’ Aggie asked, opening the door, wearing a smile that seemed somewhat fake all of a sudden.

“‘Just… hanging out,’ I replied, hoping I sounded convincing and not completely suspicious.

“‘Oh,’ was all Aggie had to say. And I noticed for the first time that day that she was wearing a turtleneck sweater. Once I thought about it, she was almost always wearing a turtleneck, or high-collared shirt. I had always assumed that modesty was simply a part of the way she was raised, but maybe there was more to it than that. Maybe she was hiding something.

“‘I brought your favorite movie,’ I said, holding up the disc as a visual aid.

“‘Cool,’ Aggie replied, giving me that smile again, and I couldn’t help but wonder how many times her smile was genuine and how many times it was nothing more than an act to keep me in the dark.

“When Brandi showed up, we turned on the movie, and twenty minutes in, I was beginning to regret this entertainment choice. Horror movies always have the terrifying little girl in them, and this one was no exception to that rule. We had just seen our first glimpse of her. Blood rushed out of her eye sockets and ran down her pale body. This movie had never scared me so much before, but after seeing those pictures of Aggie, it occurred to me that these horrors haunt not only the movies, but real life as well.

“‘Are you okay?’ Brandi asked as credits rolled up the screen.

“I had tried to keep my cool throughout the movie, but I was failing miserably. I was shaking in fear, not of the movie, but of the similarities between Aggie and the girl. It was after one in the morning, so my logic wasn’t working well as it was. Everything seemed too traumatic to bear.

“‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ I said. But the steady tone of voice I used was so forced that even I couldn’t say it was convincing.

“Brandi looked at me incredulously and then at Aggie with a look that seemed to imply I was going crazy. Then again, maybe I was going crazy.

“‘Okay,’ said Brandi, and she got up to leave. ‘I’ll see you guys in the morning.’

“The door closed as Brandi left, and then Aggie turned to me. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked. But she had a dazed expression on her face, and her voice was airy, like she wasn’t all there. Her mind was somewhere far in the distance.

“I couldn’t bring myself to respond her. Even if she had kept so much from me all these years, I couldn’t lie to her. But still, I couldn’t just tell her that I’d gone snooping through her mail…

“I decided that I had to see the scars for myself before I could tell her. After all, with the technology of the day, an average computer could’ve edited scars into those pictures, without a very skilled person manning it too. So, as she turned around, her back toward me, I sprung forward and lifted back the collar of her turtleneck.

“‘What’re you doing?’ she shouted, throwing her hand to the back of her neck.

“Aggie’s roommate stirred in her sleep, and I put a finger to my lips, signaling Aggie to quiet down.

“And it didn’t matter that Aggie had placed her hand over her neck. I had seen everything I needed to see: a scar beginning on her neck and extending ever downward. ‘Aggie,’ I whispered, pulling the pictures out of my pocket. ‘What’s going on?’

“The smile on Aggie’s face faded away, and she reached out to grab hold of the pictures, tears flowing down her cheeks. She couldn’t pretend anymore.

“I hugged her tightly. ‘It’s going to be okay, Aggie,’ I said, though I had no way of knowing. ‘Just tell me what’s going on. Maybe I can help.’

“Aggie pulled away from me. ‘I don’t think you can,’ she said, wiping the tears from her eyes. ‘But I guess if you’ve seen the pictures you might as well read the letter that goes with it.’ She retrieved the envelope from underneath her mattress and took the piece of paper out of it. ‘Read it,’ she said.

“The letter said, ‘Dear Agrata, it’s great to finally hear from you. You asked how I’ve been doing. I’ve enclosed some pictures. I hope they answer your question. I’m glad to hear you’ve learned to cope with this new life and have friends to share it with. I’m not as lucky as you. I haven’t been that successful. The pictures should be proof enough of that. I’m going with Mom soon, but know that I’ve always loved you. Maybe towards the end of time I’ll see you again. Until then, enjoy the life that I could never adjust to. Love, Akantha.’

“I gave the paper back to Aggie, and then she began to explain: ‘The letter’s from my sister, Akantha. We’ve been separated for years now since we were adopted into different families.’

“It was too much for me to take in so late at night. ‘But you should be happy, Aggie,’ I said. ‘She’s found your mom.’

“Clearly, this was not the right thing for me to say for Aggie started crying again. ‘No,’ she choked out through her sobbing. ‘You don’t understand. She’s going to be with my mom. You don’t understand. My mom’s dead. My dad shot her.’ And she broke into heavier sobbing.

“Again, I held her tightly, for I was at a loss for anything else to do. I waited for what seemed like an hour for her to settle down so she could finish the story.

“‘He used to get angry,’ she told me, once she caught her breath enough to speak again. ‘He would get so mad. And Akantha would get hurt. And I would get hurt. And Mom tried to stand up to him.’

“‘It’s going to be okay,’ I said, though a little voice in my head convinced me otherwise. ‘We’re going to find her, and everything’s going to be okay. You’ll see.’

“Again, Aggie pulled away. ‘You really think so?’ she said, a hopeful smile spreading across her face.

“I nodded, beginning to believe it myself. If we could find her, then we could talk to her, and we could stop her from ‘going with her mother.’ ‘What’s her last name?’ I asked.

“‘Thomas,’ Aggie replied. ‘Her name is Akantha Thomas.’

“The two of us went to bed, and the next morning we met in the library to do a search on Aggie’s sister. But by the time we got there, the only article available was the obituary of Akantha Thomas.

“You can open your eyes.”

With that, the guest speaker left.

“I had a great nap,” Amber said as we followed Mr. Opeges back to class. “What about you?”

I shook my head. Somehow, I hadn’t been able to sleep through the man’s tragic tale.

“So what’s up with your mom and sister?” Amber asked, replying to my note.

“I need to talk to them,” I replied, realization dawning within me.

“You tell ‘em what’s up,” said Amber.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. But I knew that Amber wouldn’t understand. I had told my mom and my sister both that I hated them. Now I just wanted to apologize. If something happened to either one of them, it would be more than I could bear. I needed to tell them that I loved them.