Those who have seen death, those that have lost and mourned, how many such have retained their character? How many have snuck through the jaws of despair and stepped into the clothing that is their life? How many have rid themselves of the filth that is sorrow? Not many, if any. And I am one of those many…
I opened my eyes to the world I belonged. I was back from my reverie. It was an empty one, and I could barely see anything. It was a lost effort. Ms Solvent clapped frantically while I was dazed, looking at the keys. It seems I was good enough. But I haven’t produced the scenery of that day. There was no curtain of water enveloping me; no fire burned my house and no waterspout showed itself. ‘How was it?’ I asked the two smilingly. I was disappointed but not enough to ignore them.
‘Beautiful, Lile!’ Ms Solvent said frantically. She did not stop her attempts at persuading me to teach or be painted. I was proud that I had such talent, but I knew it needed polish. I declined.
‘Ms Solvent, do you not have any classes today?’ Ms Orchard spoke ever so smoothly. And in a frantic nature, Ms Solvent screamed and left in a hurry much to my relief.
I stared at that back and thanked Ms Orchard in my mind. My benefactor was truly a benevolent woman. The blonde woman smiled at me and complimented my playing. Her words meant more to me than she could tell, and I was thankful for that. In these short days, I had come to appreciate her very much.
Soon, we climbed down the stairs. Ms Orchard led me to the gallery where the painting of my playing was displayed. It was placed among its kind, on the walls lavished with frames and canvas. I admired many, but the one of goddess Ivory was the most eye-catching. Her pale hands — against the depiction of a turbulent world — were lifting the Highland, creating a fall of unimaginable magnitude. I gasped looking at it. Ms Orchard guided me around, showing me many works of art that caught my envy and gaze.
We talked about daily life, lectures, and the professors as we left the grounds of the Arts department. Being the punctual man that I was, I glanced at my watch. It was quarter to two. I asked Ms Orchard if she had any classes.
‘I had Behavioural Science in the morning. Nothing currently,’ she said as those watery blue eyes sparkled in the brilliance of the late afternoon sun. They were like blue topaz, clear and pure. They were truly beautiful, enough to mesmerise me. Something so opulent could never belong to someone like me, a poor boor. That, I lamented.
I soon shied away, hiding behind the blinding rays. I thought I had enough courage to ask her for a leisurely walk, but a sense of foul happenings halted my resolution. I felt amiss, and I was not mistaken. I heard a voice and found two students rushing towards us.
‘Professor!’ one of them kept shouting, while the other wheezed extremely. Is that…? I narrowed my eyes, struggling through the dazzling light, and found them to be my students. The loud one and the one beside him.
‘What is it?’ I asked as they reached the wary me. I saw their expressions that did not seem cheery.
‘Have you seen Selena?’ the loud one asked.
Selena? ‘Ms Lasfield?’ I remembered the girl. She came off as menacing at first, but she was courteous. A girl with solemn curiosity. A model student. Respectful. ‘I am afraid I haven’t,’ I said, examining both from hair to toe. ‘Why? Is something the matter?’
‘No, nothing,’ the boy said curtly and turned to rush someplace else, but the girl did not budge. I found that queer. I found her determination very queer. She did not speak as she stared into my eyes quietly. Her intentions were not shared in her gaze, but I could tell that she bore expectations.
Something was amiss. I could tell, and now I knew. ‘Has she been missing?’ I asked. I was many things, but ignorant I was not. Ignorance is a fool’s ally, I thought, and the greatest sin a mortal could commit. The girl gave a short nod, and I asked, ‘Where did you last see her?’
‘Leaving towards the library,’ interposed the loud one.
‘Which one?’ interjected Ms Orchard. She too was alert like me, but unlike me, she did not show.
‘One on the academy grounds. We have been searching for her for hours.’
Hours? That was alarming. I listened to the conversation while my sights rested on the quiet girl’s calm eyes. ‘She did not have her satchel,’ she said suddenly, gazing into my eyes, and shivers passed me. The slightly ajar door that I had simply ignored passed through my mind in a flash, and I felt the urgency take over my entire being. The creaking of the floorboards echoed in my mind, and my legs took pace.
I turned in the direction that my instincts kept telling me to rush, and I rushed. The soles of my feet resounded loudly on the stone paving, and my heart demanded swiftness furiously. My fingers moved, and I cast my magic. The acceleration of the object, which was my body, increased. I cast another spell, and the air that resisted my advance gave way, avoiding my speeding body. I was quicker now. So, I ran. I ran and I ran until breathing and swallowing was the only sound that entered my ears. I was pushing my frail body beyond its limits. The wind could not touch me and my body turned hotter by the second. Sweat trickled down my face, drenching the strands of my hair.
I passed the lilac trees arching over the paved path and soon entered the place where the sun feared to shine. I prepared the matchbox in one hand while the other held the knob of the door. I turned and opened it quietly.
The hallway was stale, gloomy, and dark. I have had moments of terror in my life, but this one was the one that unnerved me the most. I was very not calm, and my heart could attest.
I took a breath and entered the building while ignoring those bright red spider lilies at the edge of the forest. Light. I lit the match as I passed by the first door after confirming no one was in. She was not there. I searched my office and I looked in the laboratory. The first-floor lecture hall felt eerily empty. It scared me. I climbed the loft, but the dusty place had more mice than the storage rooms. I scared them away and descended after looking through its small windows. From afar, Ms Orchard and two students rushed this way in a hurry. Someone could have seen me coming. My hair stood on end as I realised the dire situation I had found myself in. I retained extreme focus as I went around, looking for my student.
The records room had ledgers but no girl. Afraid, I walked towards the washrooms. I opened the doors with much anticipation but no one was there either. The place was empty.
Emptiness. It was what made me most excited.
I looked around at my surroundings. My heart beat louder. My breathing turned agitated, quicker and quicker. I was struck with extreme anxiety. I could feel the tense air, and I could feel the eerie invitations from a single place. The basement. I knew there wouldn’t be a sliver of light in that horrifying place. I hadn’t gone there even once, and that perturbed me more. What if someone had been there all the while? While I taught students? While I sat in my office?
For the students. I thought as I opened the door that led me down a flight of stairs. The flame of the matchstick died down, throwing this world into darkness as I felt terror.
The place was pitch dark and the ground wet. It felt colder than outside, and it smelt musty. And funny. I tasted metal at the tip of my tongue. I lighted the match, holding it between my trembling fingers. My sanity collapsed.
I found her there — lying in a pool of blood, watching me with eyes wide open. Her stare spoke what I already knew. Someone was behind me.
Those who have seen death, those that have lost and mourned, how many such have retained their character? How many have snuck through the jaws of despair and stepped into the clothing that is their life? How many have rid themselves of the filth that is sorrow? Not many, if any. And I am one of those many…
I opened my eyes to the world I belonged. I was back from my reverie. It was an empty one, and I could barely see anything. It was a lost effort. Ms Solvent clapped frantically while I was dazed, looking at the keys. It seems I was good enough. But I haven’t produced the scenery of that day. There was no curtain of water enveloping me; no fire burned my house and no waterspout showed itself. ‘How was it?’ I asked the two smilingly. I was disappointed but not enough to ignore them.
‘Beautiful, Lile!’ Ms Solvent said frantically. She did not stop her attempts at persuading me to teach or be painted. I was proud that I had such talent, but I knew it needed polish. I declined.
‘Ms Solvent, do you not have any classes today?’ Ms Orchard spoke ever so smoothly. And in a frantic nature, Ms Solvent screamed and left in a hurry much to my relief.
I stared at that back and thanked Ms Orchard in my mind. My benefactor was truly a benevolent woman. The blonde woman smiled at me and complimented my playing. Her words meant more to me than she could tell, and I was thankful for that. In these short days, I had come to appreciate her very much.
Soon, we climbed down the stairs. Ms Orchard led me to the gallery where the painting of my playing was displayed. It was placed among its kind, on the walls lavished with frames and canvas. I admired many, but the one of goddess Ivory was the most eye-catching. Her pale hands — against the depiction of a turbulent world — were lifting the Highland, creating a fall of unimaginable magnitude. I gasped looking at it. Ms Orchard guided me around, showing me many works of art that caught my envy and gaze.
We talked about daily life, lectures, and the professors as we left the grounds of the Arts department. Being the punctual man that I was, I glanced at my watch. It was quarter to two. I asked Ms Orchard if she had any classes.
‘I had Behavioural Science in the morning. Nothing currently,’ she said as those watery blue eyes sparkled in the brilliance of the late afternoon sun. They were like blue topaz, clear and pure. They were truly beautiful, enough to mesmerise me. Something so opulent could never belong to someone like me, a poor boor. That, I lamented.
I soon shied away, hiding behind the blinding rays. I thought I had enough courage to ask her for a leisurely walk, but a sense of foul happenings halted my resolution. I felt amiss, and I was not mistaken. I heard a voice and found two students rushing towards us.
‘Professor!’ one of them kept shouting, while the other wheezed extremely. Is that…? I narrowed my eyes, struggling through the dazzling light, and found them to be my students. The loud one and the one beside him.
‘What is it?’ I asked as they reached the wary me. I saw their expressions that did not seem cheery.
‘Have you seen Selena?’ the loud one asked.
Selena? ‘Ms Lasfield?’ I remembered the girl. She came off as menacing at first, but she was courteous. A girl with solemn curiosity. A model student. Respectful. ‘I am afraid I haven’t,’ I said, examining both from hair to toe. ‘Why? Is something the matter?’
‘No, nothing,’ the boy said curtly and turned to rush someplace else, but the girl did not budge. I found that queer. I found her determination very queer. She did not speak as she stared into my eyes quietly. Her intentions were not shared in her gaze, but I could tell that she bore expectations.
Something was amiss. I could tell, and now I knew. ‘Has she been missing?’ I asked. I was many things, but ignorant I was not. Ignorance is a fool’s ally, I thought, and the greatest sin a mortal could commit. The girl gave a short nod, and I asked, ‘Where did you last see her?’
‘Leaving towards the library,’ interposed the loud one.
‘Which one?’ interjected Ms Orchard. She too was alert like me, but unlike me, she did not show.
‘One on the academy grounds. We have been searching for her for hours.’
Hours? That was alarming. I listened to the conversation while my sights rested on the quiet girl’s calm eyes. ‘She did not have her satchel,’ she said suddenly, gazing into my eyes, and shivers passed me. The slightly ajar door that I had simply ignored passed through my mind in a flash, and I felt the urgency take over my entire being. The creaking of the floorboards echoed in my mind, and my legs took pace.
I turned in the direction that my instincts kept telling me to rush, and I rushed. The soles of my feet resounded loudly on the stone paving, and my heart demanded swiftness furiously. My fingers moved, and I cast my magic. The acceleration of the object, which was my body, increased. I cast another spell, and the air that resisted my advance gave way, avoiding my speeding body. I was quicker now. So, I ran. I ran and I ran until breathing and swallowing was the only sound that entered my ears. I was pushing my frail body beyond its limits. The wind could not touch me and my body turned hotter by the second. Sweat trickled down my face, drenching the strands of my hair.
I passed the lilac trees arching over the paved path and soon entered the place where the sun feared to shine. I prepared the matchbox in one hand while the other held the knob of the door. I turned and opened it quietly.
The hallway was stale, gloomy, and dark. I have had moments of terror in my life, but this one was the one that unnerved me the most. I was very not calm, and my heart could attest.
I took a breath and entered the building while ignoring those bright red spider lilies at the edge of the forest. Light. I lit the match as I passed by the first door after confirming no one was in. She was not there. I searched my office and I looked in the laboratory. The first-floor lecture hall felt eerily empty. It scared me. I climbed the loft, but the dusty place had more mice than the storage rooms. I scared them away and descended after looking through its small windows. From afar, Ms Orchard and two students rushed this way in a hurry. Someone could have seen me coming. My hair stood on end as I realised the dire situation I had found myself in. I retained extreme focus as I went around, looking for my student.
The records room had ledgers but no girl. Afraid, I walked towards the washrooms. I opened the doors with much anticipation but no one was there either. The place was empty.
Emptiness. It was what made me most excited.
I looked around at my surroundings. My heart beat louder. My breathing turned agitated, quicker and quicker. I was struck with extreme anxiety. I could feel the tense air, and I could feel the eerie invitations from a single place. The basement. I knew there wouldn’t be a sliver of light in that horrifying place. I hadn’t gone there even once, and that perturbed me more. What if someone had been there all the while? While I taught students? While I sat in my office?
For the students. I thought as I opened the door that led me down a flight of stairs. The flame of the matchstick died down, throwing this world into darkness as I felt terror.
The place was pitch dark and the ground wet. It felt colder than outside, and it smelt musty. And funny. I tasted metal at the tip of my tongue. I lighted the match, holding it between my trembling fingers. My sanity collapsed.
I found her there — lying in a pool of blood, watching me with eyes wide open. Her stare spoke what I already knew. Someone was behind me.
