28th of September
The population of our school had started with 1512. The current population is 1508. One student transferred in the second week, without a trace. Another student died in the first week of a stabbing, outside school premises. One student was found inside a green and red river the day before yesterday. The final one stopped existing yesterday.
Her name was Rosemary, and she was in my classroom. She sat alongside the window on the last seat, and I sat to the right of her. She was always reading non-fiction books, I once tried to talk to her about On Liberty, but she seemed to understand it on a whole different level, one I could never. And she looked at me in such a dominant way, as in to say 'don't try to speak to me, I'm better than you'.
The four students that stopped being at our school were all in my year. Two of them were friends, but none of them were close. The four didn't interact with each other, the four didn't talk to another. The four most likely didn't know one another. The murdered ones were extraverted, the one who left was very normal.
She, Rosemary, was a Hermit. She never interacted with anyone. She never looked at the board. She stayed silent even when teachers asked her questions. She was also very beautiful. She had an exotic, Bourbon complexion. She had gentle, and light brown hair that went down to her back. The only imperfection on her face, if one could call it one, was a small, and feint scar on her right cheek. She wore the school uniform perfectly. Clean white shirt, purple blazer and tie. Gray skirt down to her knees, and black thighs. She was truly a perfect maiden, and she also didn't exist.
It only occurred to me that she didn't exist when yesterday, people hadn't stopped talking about the boy who drowned. Her name wasn't on the register either. No one noticed anything different. Everyone was as tensed up as always.
You could notice a few boys with their hands in the pockets of their blazers, it was obvious they were carrying knives. The atmosphere was dark and misty. Everything was wrong. If I was a mind reader, my brain would be filled with voices of people asking why this was happening to them.
Our school was prestigious. Some of the best grades in the country, high college and employment rates. The only death prior was in the year of the school's founding, which was a very long time ago. There were no ghosts haunting the school, there were no mysteries about the school. In fact, the most conspicuous thing about the school was the lack of stories. One could say it was too clean-cut.
Nevertheless, me and the student council president were sat opposite to each other on a desk. We were filling out some forms, or whatever.
"What do you think about the recent events?", She inquired.
"They were all in our year, someone we know is probably doing all this."
She looked at me, with a scary face. "Have you murdered anyone recently?"
I was inclined to laugh, but I knew better. And she's not good with sarcasm either, so I won't say something dumb. But she is usually very calm. On a normal day, we would discuss things like Books, or Philosophy and stuff. The fact that even she is frightened, shows how much the recent events have shaken us up.
"I wasn't really connected to any of the Quadruple, I haven't killed anyone."
"Quadruple...?" Her face looked less serious. "So, you murdered a person no one is talking about?"
I take back what I said, she can handle comedy and sarcasm, but not when she has her mad face on.
"Oh sorry, you haven't realised you're a ghost yet? Was the fear of death that strong?"
"It truly was", she smirked.
I'm not used to joking around and bantering with friends, in fact she's my only friend. Up until the last week of Summer, I had spent my life without friends. I was antisocial, some of it was my fault, others were things I was given, that I couldn't control as a child. After an incident, we became friends. But because of the differences between me and her friends, the only time we spent together was afterschool. I would ask her out if I was less bothered with how it would paint her. A lot of people would get mad if me and her dated.
"Say, Isabelle, do you know anyone called Rosemary?"
Her name was Isabelle, she considered me a delinquent and sociopath, which is why at a time like this, she trusted me so much that she assigned me to be the Treasurer of the Student Council. She sat in front of the non-existent girl. If Rosemary was a beautiful lady, then Isabelle would be the perfect student, so much that she was essentially a celebrity. If anyone could get grades even close to her, they would probably hold a party. She had long, braided blonde hair. Me and her were both in our final year of high school. For a day in September it was considerably warm, it felt like mid-twenty degrees Celsius. she had taken off her blazer and the sweat on her shirt made her large cleavage unavoidable to not look at. The name Rosemary had clearly made her think, but I doubt that she would recognise it.
"Did she not go to your Primary school? Actually, I remember she was here for the first few years of high school too." She looked dubious, a little uncertain. But she could see from the look in my eyes that she triggered something. "Has something happened? Is it okay to know if something's happened? You haven't gotten in trouble Oliver, have you?"
Oliver. That's right. My name is Oliver Wolfe. I am sixteen years old. I have natural blonde hair that looks more white than yellow. Pale, skinny, but well-built. Probably above average height. My hair is messy, the sides and back go down to my ears. The front is really rough too. I don't wear my tie when I'm alone, or with Isabelle, and I unbutton the first button. I didn't know how to answer her question.
"I'll be blunt. She stopped existing yesterday."
"…"
"Up until yesterday, she came to school, attended class. She sat behind you, always looked at her book. You even talked to her a few times. Everyone has forgotten she's existed."
"I see." She looked down. "Was she popular?"
"Opposite, a bit like me."
"So chaotic evil?"
"One could say"
"Everyone knew her, and one day she disappeared." She let out a sigh.
"Well not really, it was more like, she was always in the background, but just, everyone knew who she was."
"Everyone knew who she was, and now you're the only one?"
"Basically."
"That would make her like a background character who is always noticeable."
"Good analogy, it's very fitting."
"How were her grades?"
"Not close to yours, but high."
She clearly cared about that aspect. Not that I'd blame her.
"Wouldn't there be any official records?"
"She's not on the register. I can't think of any ways to get her information."
She grinned, "Why don't you do your thing then?"
"I can't."
"…" She was thinking of something.
"Do you believe me?"
"…"
I crumbled. I looked up to Isabelle, I saw her as a role model, or even a god. But if she didn't believe me, then I'd be destroyed.
She hesitated before speaking. "I believe you."
I felt relieved.
"Do you know what could've happened?"
"No…" her face went dark, "But I think I do," she said.
"What?"
"Look around the class, right now"
I jumped out of my seat, looked around, and I saw it. A beautiful girl standing at the door. When my eyes connected with hers, she looked terrified.
"I see her". I was looking dead on at Rosemary, the beautiful brunette. while speaking to Isabelle. Rosemary looked uncertain. Her eyes were afraid.
"You can?". Without looking, I could tell she was surprised.
"Ye-", the girl began running. All my attention went to Rosemary as I ran after her. I thanked God that I'd started practising running a few weeks ago, as a hobby.
The school was empty. Me and her were running along one very long hallway that never ended. She ran down a staircase and I followed her closely. We kept running until she went into the girl's toilet.
Are you kidding me? It didn't matter whether she was visible or not, but I couldn't run into a girl's toilet with the excuse of "Looking for an invisible girl".
"Is anyone in there?"
"…"
��I'm coming in!"
I felt slightly nervous. I bolted in. All the doors were closed, it felt like I was in a horror movie as a slowly kicked all the doors back. She was in the second last stall. Sitting, closed off, from everything else. She was holding herself.
"Why can I see you?". I wanted to say it calmly, but it came out as a violent shout that made her squirm. "Actually no! Why can't others see you? Why do you not exist?".
"Don't." Her voice was monotonal, it lacked any emotions. I was afraid. At that moment I realised that I had made a grave mistake. "Why do you see me? Why couldn't it be anyone more useful! Someone who could save me! Why is it you, an idiot?"
I felt a little offended. I momentarily let my fear slide as I thought about that. My grades were decent. My Maths was on point with hers, and I was probably better at her, when it came to General Knowledge, or so I'd like to think. With the amount of books she reads, she might be able to sweep me off my feet.
"Would you have preferred someone like Isabelle to see you?"
"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes."
The fear in me returned, I didn't know what she would do.
She slowly picked herself up, as I jumped back. She was holding a knife. I backed off, only to hit a wall. I moved to my left, towards the exit, but she ran past me and began to corner me. I lost my balance and hit the corner between the door and a wall.
At that moment I noticed something, very pointless, and very pathetic. I only just now saw how clean the toilets were. I didn't know what to expect, so the reality ended up being very pleasant. I also thought about how the toilets would become so dirty with my blood spilled on the walls. I finally realised how scared I was. I'll never see my parents again. I'll never thank them for raising me. I'll never prank my older brother properly, and I'll never see my younger sister get a boyfriend. I'll never see Isabelle's breasts again. I'll won't be part of the Student Council again. I'll never find out her mystery. And I'll never use my powers again.
There were tears sliding down my eyes, my face was very warm. My heart hurt. As the adrenaline rushed in my body, I realised I'd die powerless. The girl, Rosemary, had cornered me. She was in power. Could she actually kill me?
If only…
Then, she stabbed me. She was holding her knife upwards, with steady hands. It hit me below my ribcage on the left side of my body. It had been aimed at my liver.
"Wait!"
She kept the knife in me, and looked me in the eyes. Her eyes were Green. But they were also very light green, as if transparent. "What is it?"
"Could you answer my questions?"
"I don't know why you can see me. Maybe it has to do with how lonely and pathetic you are."
"Excuse me?"
"Lonely people notice other people easier." Then she spoke resentfully. "Don't even think of getting happy, thinking me and you have something in common. In fact, being grouped with you alone, leaves a bitter taste."
I understand what she's getting at, but she was a little but wrong. The reason why I could see her became a lot clearer. I'll explain later.
"Thanks, that puts a smile to my…"
I felt weak. I was bleeding.
I looked down, to see a circle of blood, expanding across my white, and pure shirt. Her hands were fixed. I noticed she hadn't inserted the knife full way, which gave me a good chance to survive, if I can stop her. The red on her hands were falling on the floor like angels. The floor was this weird blue concrete, or something. I never was good at telling textures apart. Do they use concrete for toilet floors?
"…face."
I could see my face from the mirror behind us. I looked pathetic.
"You won't try to stop me?" She asked quizzically, as if almost surprised. "You haven't screamed, neither have you resisted. Do you have a death wish?"
Now the smile on my face became a lot more genuine, a laugh at my own pitiful existence. I guess when you're closest to death is when you become the most down-to-earth. And then my superpower activated. Messing this up is giving away my own existence to a non-existent person.
"Rosemary Wilson. 23rd October. Raised by some maid while her dad is some rich dude. Likes Non-fiction, Lemonade and raising plants. Dislikes the dark, afraid of fire, and hates her cheating mother. Your favourite smell is the scent of strawberries…"
Her face was becoming uneasy. Her hands were shaking. I could feel the tension in her body as it swept into my doll-like body. This sounds unintentionally erotic.
"…you live in a single room apartment because you don't want others to know your family owns the big mansion at the East Gate Park. A few years ago you were athletic, even outside of school, when you were into Archery and Tennis. But something happened. Something so hidden in you that even I can't read"
Slowly her uneasiness was replaced with horror. She withdrew, and slowly fell on the floor. Her eyes were afraid of me. Bingo. I'm staying alive. Now all I need is a first aid kit and a few pills.
Taking the knife out, made my whole body cringe. It hurt like hell, but I could handle it. It felt really close to my liver, but luckily was stopped, probably a few millimetres short. She was still looking at me, in shock. Her eyes were telling me I just saw a dead person come back to life.
I took off my tie, and put it on the wound. I pressed down on it hard. At first, a stream of red busted out, but then it all stopped. Time itself, slowed down. The knife was on the floor between my legs. I quickly slipped it behind me, away from her.
"You'd look a bit hotter on the floor if there wasn't blood on your hands." I smiled. With one hand on the tie, I offered the other to help her get on her feet. Why am I doing this? I wasn't really sure, but it felt wrong. In fact, she looked more afraid of me and the blood and everything, than I did of her. "Are you alright?"
She slowly nodded in horror, "please don't kill me".
I wondered what happened to her character. A minute ago, she was degrading me, and now she was suddenly afraid of me. The change was unsettling, but when she put her bloody hands around my shoulder, I couldn't doubt her.
There was a noise coming from the door, and we both froze. Slowly a girl walked in to the toilet, to probably see me alone, covered in blood, with a hole on my stomach, in the girl's toilet.
"What a delinquent, I can't believe you Oliver." A familiar voice, a soothing one, and a calming one. The most nurturing thing for me after several minutes of pain, fear and exhaustion.
"May I help you, Isabelle?"
"I'd like an inquiry into your use of the female toilets."
We both started laughing. Even if the pain in my chest was immense, the comic relief that she provided was immeasurable.
���Can you help me stitch up?"
"Gladly, lets get you out of here fast."
"Oh, are you going to ask any questions?"
"For a start, why are you not wearing your tie on school grounds? I should honestly tell a teacher that you're breaking the rules."
I laughed, and to my surprise, so did Rosemary. She seemed to have relaxed, since she threw my arm away from her, only to tell me that I was so fortunate to even touch her. Me looking at the invisible thing, clearly made Isabelle's eyes open. While she was patching me up she asked where Rosemary is, and I pointed behind her.
"What will we do about all the blood here?"
"Oh…" She looked down and saw that her skirt was touching the outskirts of the red puddle, "Don't worry about it."
"What!?"
"That stuff happens often here."
And then she winked at me. Not a wink with a meaning, but a comedic one.
"Could you expand on that?"
"I don't think you'd want me to."
"But…"
"Don���t you think the phrase 'expand on' is a weird one?"
Now that she mentions it… no, no, it makes complete logical sense. "Not really, you are literally asking someone to open up and give more detail to something."
"So did I just feel like I revolutionised the schools of thought when I asked that question?"
"Schools of Thought!? Which ones?"
"Behaviourism, perhaps."
"What was that about anyways?"
As I said that, she finished closing the wound, and I got up. It hurt like hell, but I'm so glad I'm still alive.
"The environment. Do you know anything about Pavlov's dogs?"
"The ones that got hungry on command?"
"Basically. Oh, and don't forget to pick up the knife. Can we put it anywhere?"
But she didn't really explain what behaviourism had to do with that phrase.
I looked at the knife on the floor, and then shifted my gaze to Rosemary, "Where'd you put the knife?"
It was relatively small, it looked like it was a bit more than a kitchen knife and a bit less than a combat knife, in terms of deadliness. I correctly guessed she put it inside a knife holder. When she pointed at the holder, on her waist, I asked her to pass it over and she complied.
"Can I leave?", Rosemary asked with stern eyes.
I was undecided. If I let her leave now, she might hurt others. I'm not dumb, it was clearly obvious that she was a homicidal maniac, I think.
To my surprise, Isabelle said, "Tell her to leave now. Tell Rosemary to go away for now and be in school tomorrow."
The change in Rosemary's gaze made it obvious she could hear Isabelle, but I repeated her, for the sake of convenience.