Nolan Was His Name

It was 1:37 A.M. on September 22, the very first day of autumn. I always loved it when the leaves started to change color and fall off the trees, making way for winter to come through once again. My house sits deep in the woods with trees everywhere, so I get the best of the leaves. Every year on the first day of fall, I go down to the river with my friends Nolan, Faith, and Sofia. They are so much fun. We laugh and run around, and just talk and look up into the sky, entranced deeply by our innermost thoughts. I decided to turn off the TV and go to sleep. I had been at school all week, and was so tired and ready for Saturday to begin.
Next thing I knew, I woke up on the middle of my bedroom floor, next to a huge pile of clothes. I looked at the clock. It was almost noon. I got up and hastily put on my skinny jeans, t-shirt and cardigan. I told my mom I was going down to the river and left. The river was only about three minutes away. I just had to walk through some trees and bushes to get there. I had branches hitting me in the face left and right. When I got there, Nolan was sitting on the ground alone with his back against the tree that we had claimed as our own years ago. “Hey, Nolan!” I said. He must not have heard me, because he didn’t answer. I jogged until I got closer to him. “Nolan?” Still no reply. I touched his shoulder, and he toppled over, laying there on the ground, eyes wide open, without any movement. My eyes widened with fear and I screamed loud enough for Canada to hear me. “Oh my goodness!” I yelled. A flock of crows flew overhead and I screamed. I started running for home and didn’t stop until I got there. I kept looking back, because it felt like someone was mimicking every step I took and gaining on me fast. I pushed open my front door then slammed it shut and locked it. I ran straight to the kitchen where my mom was making lunch for my little brother and sister. “What’s wrong, Rissa?” she asked, concern in her voice.

I started crying and yelling and panting and hyperventilating all at once. My mom dropped what she was doing and grabbed me.
“Marissa what happened?” she asked again.
I kept crying and panting. There was a loud noise upstairs and I jumped and started screaming. “Marissa calm down, it’s just Lauren and Kendrick,” my mom said. I sat down on the couch and started sobbing once more. “Marissa! Tell me what happened.” I stopped crying for a second and explained to her what I had seen. “Mom, I found Nolan! He was dead! And his body was laying on the ground, mom! Oh my gosh. Oh gosh. I can’t! I can’t do this!” I started crying hysterically again.
“What?” my mom yelled. “I’m calling the police!”
My little brother Kendrick came downstairs and saw me sobbing.
“What’s the matter, Rissa? What happened? Are you ok?” he asked me in the same concerned tone my mother had before.
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. It was just too much. I had just seen him less than 24 hours ago. I kept crying, my tears staining the cushions on our living room couch. I listened painfully to what my mom was saying to the police.
“Yes, my daughter found her friend’s dead body down by the river. His name was Nolan Andrews. He was 15, same age as my daughter.”
I couldn’t stand hearing the conversation any longer, so I ran upstairs to my room. I just sat there on my bed recalling my mother’s words: His name was Nolan Andrews. He was 15. She said it the same way news anchors do when they are reporting a person’s death. I stared out my window, looking at the leaves that had just begun crisping and falling off of the tree’s rigid branches. All I could think about was the way Nolan’s eyes looked. The way they were open like that. Those same eyes that were once so warm and inviting and beautiful now possessed a blank stare. I closed my eyes and tried to find some peace of mind. I couldn’t. How did that happen to him? Why did it happen? Who would have done something like that to an innocent teenage boy? Was it really murder at all? Was it an accident? Where were Faith and Sofia?
I heard a scream from the river. I think I’d found them. I once again grabbed my cardigan and started sprinting for the river. When I got there, I found Faith and Sofia standing there holding each other and crying. The sight of them and Nolan’s body on the ground made me cry too. The police finally arrived after what seemed like way too long. There were six cars. Four officers got out and jogged over to where Faith, Sofia, and I were sitting on the ground.
“Which one of you discovered the body?” the very tall, skinny one asked. I looked up at him.
“I did. I discovered Nolan,” I said. That sentence was so agonizing to say.
“And what’s your name?” he asked me.
“Marissa Morgan,” I said. He then asked Faith and Sofia their names while the other officers checked out Nolan. I watched their every move. They toyed with his limp body as if he were some type of specimen to be examined. Well, I guess to them that’s all he really was. He wasn’t a friend or someone they went to with all of their problems. He wasn’t one of the few people on the planet they could really trust. He wasn’t the person that had given them their first kiss. He was just a dead boy. That was all.
“I’m going to have to take you guys in for questioning,” the same officer said once he had gotten Faith and Sofia’s names. “I’ll call Nolan’s parents, and then I’ll call your parents and tell them where we’ve taken you.” I just looked at my two friends. They looked so heartbroken. I don’t think either of them were as heartbroken as I was. The officer led us to his patrol car. Sofia and Faith got in first. I was still looking at the other officers who were now putting Nolan’s body into one of those black body bags. I had never seen one in real life. Only on one of those detective shows on TV. I never thought I would ever have to see one of my closest friends inside of one. I finally sat down next to Sofia in the back of the cop car. We rode silently to the police station.
Once there, we saw Nolan’s dad, stepmom, and older brother. His dad was just staring off into space, his face entirely expressionless. His brother Zach just sat there with his face buried deep inside his hands. His stepmom Kimberly, whom his dad had just married last Christmas, looked around the police station as nonchalantly as possible. Nolan had always called her ‘The Witch.’ He hated everything about that woman—from the fake smile painted onto her face, to the fake diamonds she always wore around her neck.
The police officer questioned all six of us—Faith, Sofia, Zach, Nolan’s dad, Kimberly, and I—separately. He asked things like what was your relationship to him, when and where did you last see him alive, what was the last thing he said to you, and do you know of anyone who may have had a motive to kill him. I didn’t even have to think about that last one. I instantly said “Kimberly, his stepmother.” After that, the officer dismissed me. My mom was waiting for me outside of the questioning room. The officers said they would do everything it took to figure out what had happened to Nolan. I really hoped so.
I sadly got into the car. My mom looked at me, her heart heavy. “I’m so sorry,” she said. I looked up at her and smiled. Then I looked out the window at all of the people who were still alive and well, unlike Nolan.
When I got home I went straight upstairs and changed into sweatpants and jumped into bed. I put in my iPod. Music was the only thing that could possibly help this. Listening to music was one of Nolan’s favorite things to do. I put on his favorite song and started smiling and laughing and crying at the same time. It was just unbelievable how he wasn’t there anymore to call and talk to. And I couldn’t just go up to him and give him a hug or a kiss and hold his hand when I got scared. He had always been there, and now he just wasn’t.
I stopped the music and just lay there, thinking about him. I had loved playing with his dark, soft, curly hair. His gorgeous, dark chocolate colored eyes were just so hypnotizing. I could touch his smooth, soft skin all day long. When I kissed him it was like nothing else existed. Now I’d never be able to feel him again.
It was 1:37 A.M. on July 22, what would have been Nolan’s 16th birthday. I couldn’t sleep at all. I just looked up at the ceiling above my bed. Months ago, I would have been crying. Now, even though the pain hasn’t gone away, and I’m certain it never will, I can smile. The police finally figured out what happened to my Nolan. They worked tirelessly and came to the conclusion that Kimberly Justine Greene-Andrews had done it. His stepmom had been putting mercury into his food and water for more than a month. About a week before he died, he told me that he hadn’t slept in days, he felt really weak, and he would sweat buckets every day. Those were all symptoms of mercury poisoning.
He refused to go see a doctor, even after Sofia, Faith and I all told him to. He said it was normal and he’d be fine if he just got some rest. Today was the day his stepmother would go to jail. She’d be there for a while. She’d rot in jail for years for murdering an innocent boy. He had been an honor student, a football player, and a great writer. He was a brother, a best friend, a son. She took him away from us and this is what she gets. We all knew Kim was bad news from the start.
The next thing I knew, I was waking up in the middle of my bedroom floor, next to my pile of clothes and a picture of Nolan. It was almost noon. I put on some shorts, grabbed the picture of Nolan and tiptoed out of my quiet home. I walked silently down to the river. I went up to the tree that Nolan and I had claimed as our own so many years ago. I looked at the spot where we had carved “Marissa + Nolan” when we were in the seventh grade. I slowly trotted down to the water and sat down by the bank of that great river that looked like it would just swallow up the universe. I placed the picture of Nolan on the water and watched it float on down, calmly and peacefully, the way I hoped Nolan had gone out. I stayed there watching it until I couldn’t bear to look at it anymore. I rose up and started walking back home.