Chapter II: A Tale About Ana Fairchild

    Three years ago, Ana Louise Fairchild started Lyman High as a freshmen. A charming young girl, the daughter of two business tycoons, it was her easy smile and kind demeanor quickly captured the hearts of the student body. She was elected captain of the cheerleading squad and was crowned homecoming princess. Her yellow, fair hair became her trademark and her reputation spread like wildfire through the school;  girls envied her and boys admired her.
    For seven months it went on just like that — she smiled at accolades and declined offers. Seven months of a beaming, laughing Ana making a mark on the students at Lyman High. She was something like a crown princess, a beloved star. Flawless, they said about her. Smart and pretty and sweet. And for seven months they interacted with her.
    Seven months wasn’t an epically long time, but high school students are creatures of habit. They positively adored her — and were used to doing it everyday. But one February morning, Ana was absent from her first block lit class. When her absence persisted throughout the rest of the week, the high school gossip mill shifted into overtime and produced story after story, one radical tale after another about tropical diseases, pregnancy, and drugs.
    But even the girls spinning the lies didn’t believe them — no one would peg the lovely Ana Fairchild for atrocious or sketchy acts. But when Ana’s disappearance continued and the news was revealed that she was pulled from school, the students fell back into speculation. What they had written off as impossible seemed to be occurring.
    The Fairchild estate was a sprawling 100 acres, fenced in and security taped. Ana’s parents remained there, but never spoke a word about their daughters absence.
    It was as if she had dropped off the face of the planet — no word to anyone.
    The students waited the entire year for her to return, but each morning the third desk in the second row remained empty and the mystery grew.
    What was so horrible that she would be forced to leave without saying goodbye?
    That summer, each incoming sophomore wove their own interpretations of the story and, it seemed, banished the idea of truth. She became a myth, a legend with so much fictionalized, it was impossible to decipher any truth in the stories about her.
    Ana Fairchild had become public domain, and they were now free to say what they wanted to about her.

The End

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