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This is the story of how my best friend disappeared. How nobody noticed she was gone except me. And how nobody cared until they found her . . . one year later.
You already know what's going to happen. But it's like a car crash going in slow motion.
“Mondays are the best days! Like, aren’t you excited about the start of a new week? It’s like a new chapter in a book. And the best part, even though we at school, we get to be together again—all day, all week.”
If Monday were a color, she’d be red. Crisp, striking, vivid, you couldn’t miss her—a bull’s-eye in the room, a crackling flame. I saw so much red that it blinded me to any flags.
She's admitting that her subconscious knows there's red flags but she's not acknowledging them.
