The Mysterious School

The Roof: MYSTERY #2

I pulled on my white t-shirt with the peace sign on it, headed out into the hallway, and climbed the stairs to the roof. As always, the worn lawn chair sat in the middle of it. I lowered myself into the chair, grabbed my old copy of Moby Dick from under it, and started to read. The roof was my relaxing spot. Calm and serene, not to mention abandoned - no one else ever came up here.
Suddenly, a gust of wind billowed in from out of nowhere. It blew Moby Dick from my hands, sending it skittering across the roof. I jumped up and followed, hands extended.
But the book stopped moving all of a sudden. Seconds before it would have hit the barrier surrounding the edge of the roof. I looked at it, and my eyes landed on the section of barrier right in front of the book.
Wait a second.. I thought. Were those markings? I took a closer look, squinting, and sure enough, small letters were etched into the wood. I knelt beside it, examining the letters.
"A... D.... M... C... T... B... N..." I read aloud. That was the end of the list. What did they have in common? What did they stand for? They weren't anagrams, that's for sure.
Then it hit me. Every year, for the past 6 years, someone had committed suicide by jumping off the roof of the school. First, Andrew Mackenzie. Then Dylan Johnson. Matthew Miller. Christina Perkins. Tara Anderson. Billy Peters. But what did the N stand for? There was only one student in our school whose name started with an N - Nathaniel Patterson. He was still alive. Sure, he'd always seemed a bit... depressed... but he was alive.
My blood ran cold. I picked up my book, ran down the stairs, and headed to Nathaniel's room. I knocked on his door and he opened it a crack. "Go away," he muttered.
"No. Nat, don't jump. I know what you're thinking. Don't jump off the roof. Please." I bit my lip, hoping against hope that I was wrong and he wasn't actually considering it.
Nat's eyes widened. "Um.. uh.. How did you know?" He shook his head. "Never mind. Just.. I've been going through a lot of things lately, and I would rather..."
I cut him off. "Come with me," I said, grabbing his arm and dragging him down to the school counselor. He sat there while I explained everything I'd found out.
When I left the office an hour later, Nat had set up some weekly sessions with the counselor, and they'd locked up the stairs to the roof. I guess I can't relax there anymore.