THE ECHO

By Nikola Meissner // Reporter ● Illustration by Nathan Miller

My friend is missing, I don’t know where she’s gone.

There’s no response when I call, no response when I text. I’m worried, this isn’t like her. Just last week we were facetiming nightly and texting constantly.

When our weekly hangouts began to dwindle, I didn’t think much of it, she’s a busy girl. Now I’m hanging on to the memory of her.

The last time I saw her, we were walking around laughing, now it feels like there is nothing to laugh about.

I heard she was last seen with a man, I know of him, but I don’t know him. Let’s call him Dave. She talks about Dave a lot, she says he’s tall, he’s nice, and he plays football. I feel like I know all about him at this point, but I really don’t like him. He’s possessive, obsessive, and a bit excessive.

Still, despite all my doubts, every night I check my phone in the hopes that she’ll reach out. I worry I’ll never hear from her again sometimes.

I wonder if maybe I’ll see a glimpse of her at a grocery store or maybe one day I’ll drive past her on the street.

I don’t know that I will ever see her again though, I’m just not sure. Sometimes at night, I look through our old pictures and wonder if she is still that happy or if she is wallowing in pain.

I think about all the spur of the moment hangouts and her randomly coming to pick me up just to drive around. I think about all the sleepovers and the facetimes, all the clothes and dinners we bought, all the shirts and dresses borrowed.

I think about the good times and the hard ones. I think about us laughing together and crying together.

She’s gone to me, unavailable.

I can’t report her absence to the police; she isn’t really missing. She just got a boyfriend.