Sabrina Anderson is a book written by the user Plattenum.
(A Story of Fiction)
It’s funny to think just yesterday Sabrina and I were laughing over hilarious posts on social media and talking with each other about our dreams for the future, hers as a book illustrator and mine as a high school English teacher. It’s funny to think just yesterday Sabrina and I were planning a sleepover filled with fun activities, including painting each other’s nails bold, unique designs and playing Truth or Dare. It’s funny to think just yesterday Sabrina and I made up nicknames for each other, mine being “Miss Issy” and hers being “Sab Sab”.
It’s too bad those are just memories.
When I walked into homeroom Monday morning, I instantly knew something was off. The teachers looked like they hadn’t slept a wink, dark circles encasing their eyes, and the room felt like all the air had been sucked out of it. But the biggest red flag of all was the fact that Sabrina’s desk was not filled with her slender body, void of her face with its big green eyes gazing up at me and an award-winning smile.
Sabrina never got sick—not even with the common cold—and had perfect attendance; she hadn’t missed a day of school since a tree-falling incident that had resulted in a broken arm in 2nd grade. Something was terribly wrong.
“Where’s Sabrina?” I queried Maddy, who seemed to always be up-to-date on the latest gossip.
Maddy wouldn’t look at me as she replied vaguely, “You’ll find out.” Her voice cracked, which caused a bout of anxiety to course through me.
“Maddy, tell me!” I pleaded. “Please.”
“You’ll find out,” she repeated like a robot, still averting my gaze.
Her strange behavior leaving me with an unsettling, jittery feeling, I plunked myself down at my desk and started tapping it nervously.
“Class... I have some very unfortunate news for you,” Miss Daniels said with zero enthusiasm.
I heard a sniffle and turned to see Maddy softly weeping, tears streaming down her face like a waterfall down a cliff. She looked up at me with a wet gaze, and I quickly swiveled back around.
Miss Daniels appeared as to be on the verge of tears, as well. “Sabrina...” she started, then stopped and covered her mouth with her hand, choking back a sob. She took a deep breath and tried again. “Sabrina... She....... Passed.”
No, I thought. It can’t be true. The room started swirling around me like I was riding a tilt-a-whirl, and I gripped the edges of my desk with a surprising intensity, trying to maintain a hold on my consciousness. I closed my eyes in an attempt to trap like a beaver dam the incoming tears, but to no avail.
“How?” Carly asked timidly, her voice as quiet as a mouse.
Miss Daniels shifted uncomfortably, seemingly unprepared for that question. “This weekend... Sabrina got into a car accident. The doctors tried to save her, but... but they couldn’t.” Then Miss Daniels muttered, “I’ve never seen anything like this before.” She took a deep breath and plastered a smile on her face. “Let’s just keep going through the day. Get out your pencils and turn to page 63 in your math book.”
I didn’t hear anything after that.
“Isabelle! Are you okay?”
I lurched up with a start. I glanced around but everything was blurry. I rubbed my eyes and asked uncertainly, “Where am I?”
Someone kneeled down beside me and explained with a gentle tone, “You’re in the nurse’s office, Isabelle.”
“Mom! Why am I here?”
Mom regarded me with deep concern. “You fainted.”
The memories flooded back to me. “Sabrina...”
Mom patted my shoulder. “I know, it's sad. But we can’t change the past.”
I was dumbfounded at my mom’s lack of sympathy. Rage boiled within me; I reached behind me and started unleashing it by punching the pillow I’d lain on.
“I want her BACK!” I shrieked, enunciating each word with a punch. “I want my best friend BACK!”
“Whoa.” The nurse rushed over, a look of alarm written across her face, and pulled my arms away from the poor, innocent pillow. “Calm down, Isabelle. Take a deep breath.”
“Don’t tell me what to do!” I screamed at her.
“I’m going to take her to the counselor,” the nurse told Mom. Despite my insistent protesting, she and Mom heaved me all the way down the numerous lengthy hallways to the counselor's office.
“What was your favorite thing about Sabrina?” the counselor, Miss Lee, inquired of me as I slumped in the cushiony chair across from her, its bright and happy shade of yellow making me want to throw up. Wishing I was anywhere but here, I ignored her question and pretended to be super fascinated with picking the fabric of my jeans.
“Isabelle, it will really help you if you answer my questions,” Miss Lee urged me. “I know the detrimental effect this event must be having on your emotional well-being.”
“You don’t know anything,” I snapped.
Miss Lee sighed. “Isabelle, you are not the first grieving teenager I have dealt with. I myself was once a grieving teenager. I have a pretty good knowledge of your situation.”
I harrumphed and defiantly crossed my arms over my chest. “Can I please just go?”
Miss Lee gazed at me for a few more seconds, then propped open the door for me. Shocked by her surrender, I gingerly stood and walked out of the room, thanking her for relenting.
As soon as I was sure the door was completely shut, I crouched at the bottom of the wall and burst into tears, burying my face in my hands.
Startled, I jerked my head up, smacking it against against the brick wall behind me. “Ow,” I groaned, massaging the soon-to-be bruise. I looked up to see who was interrupting my sob-fest, and was surprised to see it was my older sister, Sophia.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice thick with tears.
“I came here with Mom as soon as she got the call saying you’d fainted. Mom had to go back to work, so she told me to wait for your counseling session to end.” Sophia squatted down next to me and looked at me earnestly. “Clearly, it’s a good thing I did.”
I shook my head. “I’m fine. You should go back to school.”
Sophia wrapped her arm around my shoulders. “Issy, I’m your sister. You know you can talk to me, right?”
I shrugged off her arm. “Leave me alone, Soph. Please.”
A look of disappointment flitted across her face as she murmured, “Okay, see you later,” and left.