Something was wrong with Abby.
The normally friendly and outgoing teenager had become quite reclusive this summer. She no longer hung out with her friends at Tony's Deli. On weekends she’d lie in bed, refusing to chat on the phone with the girls. Claudia McKenzie was worried, but attributed her daughter’s unusual behavior to teenage mood swings. Abigail was so popular! A beautiful petite blond with lovely blue eyes, she was the center of a group of bright girls at Riverside High, a premier high school in the Chicago suburbs. As the summer of 1971 wound down and the semester began, Abigail’s behavior appeared to stabilize, and Claudia breathed a sigh of relief.
But early Monday morning three weeks into the school year, Abigail was noticeably absent from her AP English class. Mr. Murray, concerned, waited an extra minute before deciding to close the door. Abigail had always been a teacher’s delight; eager to learn,a top student, and the first arrival to class. Robert Murray, who had a Masters Degree in English literature, secretly admitted that she was his favorite student. As he walked to the door he saw Abby
approaching from the hallway and stopped with his hand on the door knob, shocked by what he saw. Today his best student looked strangely different. Her blouse pleaded for a hot iron; her usually neat pony-tail was now loosely pulled back with strands hanging limp around her pale face; and her broad, friendly smile was replaced by a dull, flat expression. She walked slowly to her seat, staring at the board as he wrote the objectives for the day’s lesson. The chairs were arranged in a circle and a spirited discussion of Hemingway’s A Clean, Well-Lighted Place was about to begin. Abigail slowly joined the circle and continued to stare, distantly.
“Are you okay, Abigail?” he asked.
Abigail shifted her blank gaze to his face, then stood up and walked to the door. What was she doing here? She found herself unable to concentrate again this morning, and something in her head told her to leave.
As Mr. Murray called after her, he noted that the clock over the door registered 8:15. “Abigail, where are you going?”
Abigail silently walked out of the classroom.
Mr. Murray had hoped this was a hurried trip to the bathroom, or maybe to the nurse. His concern grew, however, when the 8.49 bell rang and Abigail still had not returned. He rushed into the principal’s office to report her absence.
