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After wiping away those tears that broke out when I was alone in a hallway, I became aware of the pain caused by the wound. I continued to walk, like a mindless zombie, while getting a plaster from my bag to slap it over the bleeding area. The reason for doing so was to stop the bleeding so that no one would notice it. It didn’t matter to me if it got inflamed.
When I turned around a corner, I saw her.
That ghost was standing at the other end of the dark, windowless corridor lined with rusty lockers, beside the stairway that led to my classroom. She was facing the wall, not moving one bit.
I began to walk towards her. Inside me, there was a fear of the unknowns. At that moment, it was eclipsed by my need of someone who could understand me or fulfil my wish of fading into obscurity.
Why are you following me? Can you hear me? Can you bring me to another world?
There was no reaction from her.
Face me if you can hear me!
Regret set in the second I was surrounded by a cacophony of groans. Those sounded like the slow turning of a wooden wheel. It was as though the wooden planks were going to snap due to the pressure.
In a sudden, violent motion, her head was jerked to the side. I could hear the cracking of the bones, and those sounds were ricocheting in my brain. It hurt.