We called her Spacegirl. Her real name was Megan Daniels, but nobody really used it. She had been Spacegirl since second grade. She was the kind of kid who stood out with her long red hair, pale skin, and thick glasses. For as long as anyone could remember, Spacegirl was quiet.

She didn't like being around other kids. She didn't play with us, and she barely spoke. Most of the time, she found a quiet spot far away from everyone else. Then she would open her notebook and start writing or drawing. Sometimes she wrote poems, sometimes she drew pictures. She seemed to live in her own world. Looking back, it’s easy to see why some kids picked on her. She was different, and she was often alone. That doesn't make what happened okay, but children can be very cruel.

I remember Sasha Brown telling me that Spacegirl was slow because her mother used drugs. Sasha probably made that up, but many of us believed it. Sasha was always the meanest to Spacegirl, and she kept it up until the very end. It all really kicked off in fifth grade when Sasha took her notebook.

The

Day the Notebook Was Taken

It was a rainy day, so we had indoor recess. Spacegirl sat in her usual corner, focused on her notebook, drawing something carefully. Sasha and I were at nearby desks, just watching her. Sasha whispered, loud enough for me to hear, "I can't believe they let that slow kid sit with us. Look at her. Why do they even let them in schools? They don't learn anything."

Tanya Evrett, who sat near us, added, "Better than leaving her home with her drug addict mom. My dad sees a different car at her house every day. He says she lets boys come over and they pay her for S-E-X." We all knew the word "sex" was bad, and we believed decent people never did it.

Spacegirl paused her drawing. Her eyes flickered away from her notebook and looked at us. I think she heard us. Sasha stared right back. "What? Got a problem, Spacegirl?" she asked. The teacher was out of earshot, giving Sasha freedom to say what she wanted. Spacegirl looked back down at her notebook. But Sasha felt challenged. She checked if the teacher was busy, then walked closer to Spacegirl.

"What are you even doing in there, slowpoke?" Sasha demanded. Before Spacegirl could react, Sasha snatched the notebook. "What is this? A unicorn? Are you five?" Sasha handed the book to me. I took it without thinking. Inside was a colorful drawing of a unicorn. The art was actually good, but I would never have said that.

Tanya took the book next. Spacegirl looked at us, helpless. "Wow. You can't even draw. Look at this?" Tanya ripped the page out. Spacegirl let out a small whimper, like she'd been physically hurt. The drawing was crumpled, and the notebook was thrown on the floor by Spacegirl's desk.

"Draw something that isn't trash next time," Tanya said. Sasha just giggled. It wasn't funny; it was just mean. Spacegirl slowly picked up her book, not looking at anyone. Tanya and Sasha turned away. I kept staring. I remember how defeated she looked, like she was shrinking. She looked up at me for just a second, and I felt bad for her. I really did. But I didn't do anything. I just went back to the other kids.

Recess Torment

Under the Tree

After that day, Spacegirl became an easy target for Sasha and Tanya. They harassed her whenever they could, and I regret to admit I was often right there with them. On days we could go outside for recess, Spacegirl would always sit under the same tree, always working in her notebook. We would lean against the trunk and look over her shoulder.

"Wow, that's really good, Spacegirl," most of their comments would start. "Did you mean to draw it like it got hit by a truck, or is that just your style?" There was never a real compliment. They always found something to pick on.

"Can you draw me?" Sasha asked one time. "I heard that slow kids are always like, art geniuses or something. Maybe it'll even look like a person!" Spacegirl didn't look up. She seemed to be trying hard not to hear the insults. I wasn't innocent either. I never stopped them, and there were times I joined in making fun of her. It was just what we did, and we weren't the only ones. Almost everyone hurt her in some way. But she never complained. I think she was too scared to.

A Cruel

Prank and Its Aftermath

It was late December in seventh grade when things got much worse. I don't know all the details, or how long things had been building, but I heard a rumor that James Hardy had a problem with Spacegirl. James wasn't in our class often. He was a small kid who thought he was a tough guy. Rumors said someone saw his dad going into Spacegirl's house. People speculated they were having an affair. Some rumors twisted into claims that James and Spacegirl were dating, which seemed to upset him.

We were coming in from recess when some boys decided to play a prank on James. Brian Jordan and his brother Mike set it up. They had mistletoe for the holidays and hung it in the hall near our classroom. Mike had grabbed Spacegirl during recess and held her behind the door with the mistletoe. When James walked by, they pushed her at him and took a picture. I was right behind James.

I watched as Spacegirl flew out from nowhere, eyes wide with fear, and slammed into James. They both fell to the ground. I heard the other boys laughing. "LOOK! She wanted to give you a kiss!" one of them yelled. Spacegirl tried to crawl away from James and find her notebook, but someone had kicked it out of sight. I remember her looking back at James, tears in her eyes. She was clearly terrified and didn't want any part of this.

"You fucking faggot assholes!" James yelled as he got up. "Hey, she just wanted to give you a smooch!" Brian laughed. "Come on, give her a kiss!" Someone pushed Spacegirl towards James. He glared at her as if it was her fault. She tried to stand and run, but he was angry and not thinking clearly. I watched him grab her and hit her. A solid punch to the jaw. He then threw her to the ground and went after Brian. A teacher had to step in to pull James off Brian.

James, Spacegirl, and the Jordan brothers were all suspended right before the Christmas holidays. We didn't see Spacegirl again until January. We never saw James or his friends again after that.

Tragic News

Over the Holidays

On Christmas Eve, there was a car accident on the highway outside of town. It reportedly swerved to avoid an animal and went into a ditch. Mike, Brian, and their parents did not survive. On December 27th, James was killed outside while shoveling his driveway. My parents told me he was attacked by an animal, maybe a deer. But that seemed very strange. I had never heard of deer attacking people, especially not in our area.

I went to Sasha's house the day before New Year's. We both got gift cards for Christmas and planned to go to the mall. Her parents were working, so it was just us when I arrived. "Hey! You kept me waiting!" she said when I knocked. "Sorry," I replied. "It's fine. I'll be ready in a bit. Come upstairs, I want to show you something!"

I didn't ask what it was. I figured it was another Christmas present. I went upstairs with her. "You're gonna love it," she promised. "It's gonna be so funny..." She led me to her bedroom. As soon as she opened the door, I saw a familiar notebook on her desk. "Where did you get this?" I asked, walking closer. "Spacegirl dropped it when Brian and his brother pulled that prank the other day. She dropped it. I might have grabbed it... you know. Just for safekeeping."

Sasha gave a small, knowing smile. She opened the notebook. "Look at this... She's been drawing the same damn unicorns forever. She didn't even finish this one!" She stopped at a small picture labeled 'The Unicorn Prince.' It showed an empty field with a blank space where the prince should have been.

Sasha flipped through more pages until she reached the newer ones. "I figured since they kicked Spacegirl out for a while, and her mom is too poor to get her anything for the holidays, I'd step up! What do you think?" Sasha wasn't nearly as good an artist as Spacegirl, but the simple detail in her drawings made my stomach turn.

In her first picture, Spacegirl was hanging from a rope, tongue hanging out, eyes closed. In the second, Spacegirl had a gun in her mouth. In the third, she was standing on the edge of a building. Sasha giggled as I flipped through her crude drawings of suicide. There were pages of them.

"What do you think?" she asked with a grin. "I'll bet she'll lose her mind!"

I closed the notebook and looked at Sasha. "Are you out of your mind?" I asked. Sasha's grin faded. "What do you mean?" "You stole her notebook just to draw these? Sasha, that's really messed up!" "It's Spacegirl, who the hell cares about Spacegirl, Jane?"

"You just... drew her killing herself over and over again!" I took the book off her desk. "Don't you understand what's wrong with that?" Sasha just stared at me like I was crazy. "Fine. Sue me for trying to be funny," Sasha said. "Just give it here..." She held out her hand for the notebook, but I pulled back. "No. You're just going to put something else in there."

Anger flashed in Sasha's eyes. "Jane, just give me the book." "No!" I opened the book and started tearing out the pages depicting Spacegirl's suicide. Sasha lunged for me, trying to grab the book and stop me, but I pushed her back. I didn't mean to push so hard, but I did, and she fell, landing hard on the ground. For a moment, Sasha looked up at me, wide-eyed and shocked. I don't think anyone had ever touched her like that before. Then I saw something in her eyes. Not just anger. Something worse. It was the same look that made her draw those horrible pictures of Spacegirl.

I turned and ran. I bolted down the stairs and out the front door, back into the snow. I clutched Spacegirl's notebook to my chest the whole time. I didn't let go until I got home.

A Lingering Shadow

I spent the rest of the Christmas break terrified that my parents would get a call from Sasha's. I had pushed her, and it felt like a huge deal then. Looking back, Sasha probably wouldn't have told her parents what happened. They would have asked why I pushed her, and I would have told them about the notebook. On some level, she must have known what she did was wrong. She was a cruel person, but there was a limit.

I never saw Spacegirl again after that. The school never said why she left, or where she went. James Hardy and the Jordan brothers were gone too, after the prank and the accidents. It was as if they, and Spacegirl, had all vanished.

Sometimes, I still think about Spacegirl. I wonder if she ever got to draw her unicorns in peace. I wonder if she ever found a place where she felt safe and understood. The memory of her quiet presence and the cruelty she faced stays with me. It’s a reminder of how easily we can hurt someone different, and how those actions can have lasting, unseen consequences.