• Jeslyn sat in her chair as quiet as no other five year old could, but she did. Miss Marie watched the other children draw on the desks (she'd handle that later) but Jeslyn didn't draw, read, write, or even move an inch for that matter.
    Miss Marie turned away to phone the parents of this strange child. When she turned back to where the child was sitting she was gone!
    "Hello?" asked a female voice from the other side of the phone.
    "Is this the mother of Jeslyn?!" the teacher cried into the receiver.
    "Yes?" asked the mother on the other side of the phone, worry smothered her voice.
    "Your child is gone!" Miss Marie cried as she pushed the button to summon the principal, Mr. Anderson.
    "We're on our way!" a dial tone started before the sentence was even finished.
    Miss Marie put the phone down and looked all over the classroom for the missing child. "Jeslyn!" she kept calling.

    An hour and a half later:

    Mr. and Mrs. Lambson, the child's parents, where talking to the police . . . . . . Well, Mr. Lambson was talking to them with his arms wrapped around his hysterical wife.
    Then a police man came up with a sleeping Jeslyn in his arms. Mrs. Lambson grabbed her child, and sobbed. Jeslyn opened her eyes, and looked up at her parents.
    "Sweetie, why did you run off like that?" asked Mr. Lambson.
    Jeslyn's eyes widened innocently. "Vivian said i should. She said it would be funny."
    "Who's Vivian hon?"
    "She my best friend. She likes to be funny."
    "Where is Vivian hon?"
    "She went away when the man got me. She likes to be with me, but i have to be alone. Her brother is here though."
    Miss Marie whispered to the father, "How did her speech get so well?"
    "I don't know."
    "Where is her brother?" asked Mrs. Lambson.
    "Over ther--he left." a small tear slipped down her cheek.
    "Do the voices always tell you stuff?" asked a cop.
    "Yeah, they told me the answers on the test. I got 100% i love my friends. No one else talks to me." another tear slipped down the child's cheeks.
    "I want to take my daughter home." Mr. Lambson said.
    "Yes sir." said a cop.
    The Lambson family went, got in the car, and went home.

    Over the next week:

    Jeslyn went to school got watched every moment. Jeslyn went to home, and got watched. Jeslyn went to the movies, and got watched. Every moment of the day she was watched even asleep there was a camera. Everyone was nervous.
    One day Jeslyn started to talking to a tree, but it looked as if she was talking to a person. That just made everyone more nervous.
    One day they lost her. Mrs. Clara, the art teacher, looked away to help with a painting, and Jeslyn was gone!
    Again people where freaking out, calling the police department, calling parents, and talking to teachers.
    More crying was done, and more freaking out. This time Miss Marie found her in the supply closet . . . . . . . hung by her belt.
    Mrs. Lambson saw the bruise around her neck, and screamed. Mrs. Lambson's sobs were racking her thin body.
    At the funeral Mrs. Lambson was crying at a tree alone. The a small voice said, "Hello, you knew Jeslyn?"
    Mrs. Lambson looked at a small girl with golden curls, crystal blue eyes, and pale skin. Her brother was next to her with the same look; small, golden hair, blue eyes, and pale.
    "Who are you?" asked Mrs. Lambson.
    "My name is Vivian. Jeslyn and i were best friends. Just like we're gonna be." Vivian smiled.