At school, she is often distracted by the bustling of people. Their mindless chatter and carefree laughter easing her into a kind of numbness that leaves her present of body but not of mind. It is only in certain moments when she sees through the fog and notices the gap. Moments like at lunch when there is one voice not chiming in.
Perhaps she can escape after school. She tries to lose herself in sports, but when she passes the ball, the person to whom she calls out doesn’t receive it.
On Friday night, they play cards, but one hand never draws.
It seems that there is always one name not called, one chair empty, one smile gone from the picture. No matter how hard she tries, she never seems to be able to forget the vacancy.
The intecom chimes on.
“...and be sure to come to the football game tonight in honor of Richard Miller. May he rest in peace.”
They say the pain fades over time, but really, she will only ever learn to adjust to the absence.