CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "Lost in a snowstorm, I stumbled into an abandoned school. I don't think it's safe" Creepypasta

Episode Date: December 27, 2021

AUTHOR'S STORIES► https://www.reddit.com/user/Darkly_Ga...CREEPYPASTA STORY►by Darkly_Gathers: https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comm...Creepypastas are the campfire tales of the internet. Horror stories spread through Reddit r/nosleep, forums and blogs, rather than word of mouth. Whether you believe these scary stories to be true or not is left to your own discretion and imagination. LISTEN TO CREEPYPASTAS ON THE GO-SPOTIFY► https://open.spotify.com/show/7l0iRPd...iTUNES► https://podcasts.apple.com/gb/podcast...CREEPY THUMBNAIL ART BY►Zack Cy: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/Dx...SUGGESTED CREEPYPASTA PLAYLISTS-►"Good Places to Start"- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g7YCb...►"Personal Favourites"- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AEa2R...►"Written by me"- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gX6RA...►"Long Stories"- https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list...FOLLOW ME ON-►Twitter: https://twitter.com/Creeps_McPasta►Instagram: https://instagram.com/creepsmcpasta/►Twitch: http://www.twitch.tv/creepsmcpasta►Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CreepsMcPastaCREEPYPASTA MUSIC/ SFX- ►http://bit.ly/Audionic ♪►http://bit.ly/Myuusic ♪►http://bit.ly/incompt ♪►http://bit.ly/EpidemicM ♪-This creepypasta is for entertainment purposes only-

I squint through the snowstorm and look down to my watch, raising it a little closer to my face for a better look. But I don't know why I bother. It's just a force of habit, I guess. The watch is broken. It's always broken. I should replace it, really. After all, who wears a broken watch? I just can't bring myself to do so.

It was passed down from my granddad, through my brother. Three different repair places all turned me away. and said it was impossible to fix. Too old, they said. Sounds like BS to me, but hey, what do I know? I shiver and my gaze returns to my surroundings. I draw my coat a little tighter around my body. The storm rages.

All around is snow and an endless world of white, illuminated through the dark with the misplurred orange of the endless, dutiful street lamps. I carry on trudging along my way. At the beginning of the night, right after the bus dropped me off, I considered waiting in the spot I was left behind, waiting for the driver to realise his error and come back and get me. But it was too cold for standing around.

So I started walking down the road, following the bus's direction of travel. It's been a few hours now, and the bus never came back. So yeah. Hey, my name is Sam, by the way. I'm 15 and I'm lost. in the snow. I didn't realize the mistake until the bus had driven away.

The storm beyond the windows was too thick, and hell, why shouldn't it be dropping me off in the right place? It's always the right place. Never, never, ever am I dropped off in the wrong location, except for this evening, it would seem. This, the evening of the storm. I grimace and close my eyes tight shut against the cold, barreling gust of icy wind. I have no idea where I am.

Maps isn't working, but I should be okay. I'll just keep following the road until I find something I recognise. Soon, for sure. And so, I walk, I walk, and I walk. It's maybe three or so hours, until I really start to feel the first stages of panic settling in. The air only feels like it's getting colder and colder, sharper and sharper. There's no one home right now to come and click to me.

So, what am I supposed to do? I check my phone again as the battery steadily drops. The device shakes in my shivering hand. Come on, I mutter, grimacing. Looking around for a countless time. Come on, give me something here, something. And if I squint, if I squint just right, there through the blizzard, is a different kind of light.

Faint at first and paler than the ocean. orange of the street lamps, but it's different enough, distinct, yellow and soft, spilling through the windows of a long building, a little ways back from the road. It could be an office block or something. I decide to go for it, turning away from the road and trudging a path through the fallen snow to the building's entrance. As I approach, I realised that the building isn't an office at all, in fact. It's a school. Not my. nor one that I recognize, but a school nonetheless. Damn, it's probably locked up tight, I think aloud as I reach the front doors.

But to my surprise, they push right open at my touch, and so I head on inside. It's not particularly warm in here, but hey, at least it's out of the wind and the snow. My footsteps echo on the hard floor. The door closes with a thunk behind me, and the sounds of the weather are dulled. I draw down my hood and allow myself a breath. It fogs and clouds out into the surrounding airs, and I look around. The school's main lobby is illuminated, like two of its off-shooting corridors, with a faint warning light. The light in Corridor 3 is flickering silently, and the light of the fourth is non-existent.

Dead, dark, and a picture of shadows. An unfamiliar emblem is emblazoned on the wall to my left, above the moon. motto. Ad mortum, add loosum. A disturbing sense of unease passes through me. The light flickers and the air chills. I tried to clear my throat, but the noise sounds distant and far away. My breath clouds around my face, and a shadow, vast and long, squirms into my field of vision across the walls and floor. Slowly, as if beneath a body of water, I turn my head. I turn my head. I turn to look behind me and stagger away in horror, as fast as this newly thickened air will allow. Beyond the glass of the entrance doors and drifting through the snow and shadows in the

air is a living nightmare. What appears, bizarrely, to be something akin to an enormous eel, black and creeping, slithing its way through the evening air as if the storm were the bottom of the sea. His jaws cracks open a slither, and as it passes me by, I see its teeth, grey and spiked and beyond count. Its eyes fix upon me. It glows like the light to the school. Yellow, only brighter. The pupil of this great eel is rectangular,

in the manner of a goat, and deeper and darker and blacker than anything I've ever seen. To meet this thing's stare is to look back into the eye of the abyss. It drifts past the door at a right angle. It's long and snake-like body, following on behind, and I tear my eyes away. Damn it, I stutter uselessly. Damn, no.

And I turned tail to run, away from the doors and deeper into the building. I pass by a window to my right and see in my peripheral another dark shadow. A second of these creatures, perhaps, as it swims through the snowstorm outside. What the hell is happening? I shout out loud, hoping to break through the sounds of my breathing and my beating heart as I tear down the hall and round corner after corner. I find myself drawn to an ascending staircase, and so up I climb after a quick check over my shoulder.

I don't think the creatures can enter into the building, but the flickering lights and the dancing shadows are playing tricks on me. I climb as quickly as I'm able and crash down into the nearest classroom, fumbling and stumbling amongst the chairs and landing on the ground in the dark. I catch my breath. The only light comes through the glass in the classroom door and through the long window beside me. The blinds are open and the snowstorm rages beyond.

The light of a street lamp, faint and far as it is, filters calmly inside. It illuminates the tips and edges of the chairs and tables. It casts a glossy, reflective shine across the artwork, presumably drawn and painted by students, hung on the walls. And across the hair of the girl, resting casually on the counter. her. Hey, she says with a smile, and I recall in surprise. What the, who are you? I ask, stuttering. Sorry about the eels. They're here for me, not for you. But best to avoid them all the same.

She says, dodging the question and brushing a strand of hair from her face. She tucks it behind her ear. I realize that at some point I have bitter my lip and it throbs painfully. I rub a thumb across a freshly forming bump. What's your name? I ask. What are you doing here? Are we safe? She shrugs. Pretty safe, I guess. For now.

She glances to the window and gently kicks a heel against the counter. My name is Ellie. I'm just hanging out. Do you have a name? Of course I have a name, I reply, irritated. It's Sam. Is this? "'Gees, is this your school then?' "'She shrugs again.

"'Kinder?' "'I glance from the door to the window "'and clamber up to my feet, "'taking a seat opposite her on a nearby desk. "'My dumb teenage brain tries to work out "'if she's cute or not. "'She kind of is, I guess. "'More importantly, though,

"'I'm trying to decide "'if her presence here has heightened "'or lessened the imminent danger. "'Could you just stop screwing? around for a second. What the hell is going on? Eels? Massive eels in the snow? They aren't actually eels, obviously. That would be moronic. They just look like eels. So what are they then? Why are they hanging around here? Around your school. She shifts and brings her hand up to a shoulder to rub her arm. Don't worry about it. It's not really a problem. Not my problem, I repeat,

eyebrows furrowed. Uh, well, I would disagree a little. I throw out my hands. What is happening? Her tone shifts to a defensive one. Geez, if you're going to be a whiny little baby, you can just go, okay? I didn't ask you to come here. I really told you, they aren't here for you.

They're here for me. Ellie crosses her arms and stands up from the desk, turning and walking away to face the window. Winy little baby. Oof. We both watch as the enormous shadow of one of the creatures drifts past the glass, temporarily thrown a coat of shadow across the room. The snow falls.

Diplomacy, Sam. I rub my chin. I want answers here. All right, I say. I'm sorry. She turns back to look at me, and I speak on. I'm just freaked out, okay. You seem a lot more in control of this situation.

I just, I'd like to be at the same level you are. I hold out my hand, an offer for her to shake it, a peace offering, and my grandfather's watch catches in the light. Her eyes dart to it at once, and her expression changes completely. She squeals a little and puts her face right close to it. That is gorgeous, she says. Oh my goodness, where did you get this? Can I see it? Why is she not concerned with the more?

monsters outside. Uh, yeah, sure. Here, take it. I enclasp it from my wrist and make to hand it to her. But she takes a sudden step back. Oh no, it's okay. If you could just set it down on the table, that would be great. I pause.

You want me to just set it down on the table? She nods and smiles pleasantly. Mm-hmm. Right. I do as she asks, and instead of passing the watch directly to her, I instead place it gently down on the nearest desk. She rests on its surface, one hand on either side of the timepiece, and gets a face really close to it. You were wearing it on the wrong wrist, you know, she says as she studies the thing. I shrug again, irritated.

Well, I'm left-handed, so... And it doesn't work? She asks me, it's broken. Why would you wear a broken watch? Even a broken watch is right twice a day, I replied dryly, and to my surprise, she actually laughs. I chuckled too, a little awkwardly in surprise. Sure, she says, sticking out a tongue. The shadow of the eel drifts right past the window.

Again we are cast in shadow as it passes us by, swimming through the rush of the storm. Please, just tell me what's going on all right, I say to her, my temporarily misplaced fear returning at full force. Come on, don't play around with me. Are we actually in danger? I certainly feel in danger. She ignores me, squinting carefully at the broken watch, muttering quietly and thought to herself. Time, she says, it's such a funny thing.

Hey, I say, hey, enough is enough. I step forward and reach out to grab her arm. But in my attempt, my hand passes. right through her skin. Her skin and body and everything else. She is massless, and I watch as my hand passes effortlessly right through her arm, translucent and flickering. After a moment of processing, I take a silent and horrified step back. She sighs and straightens, brushing that same strand of hair behind her ear. She no longer looks as solid, or indeed as grounded as she did mere moments ago. I'm sorry you ended up here tonight, she says quietly.

The wind whistles beyond the walls, and the snowstorm rages. So, what's your deal, Ellie? I ask, mouth dry. Are you a ghost or something? It's meant as a half-joke, really, but the question hangs in the air. She wrinkles a nose, then shrugs. I laugh nervously. So, I... Are you a ghost then?

I'm not alive anymore if that's what you're wondering. She nods to the window. That's why the creatures are after me. I'm not still supposed to be here. Oh, I reply simply. For some reason, I see in my mind's eye a rough bird's eye view of the school, piled high with and surrounded by snow, faint yellow light shining from the windows in the storm

as the eels circle around and around. I could run. I could just turn around and run back the way I came, back into the storm. Though I'm not convinced by what she tells me. The idea that the eels will just ignore me is a nice one, but I don't know how true it is. I'm not sure she really knows either.

How did you die? I ask a little awkwardly, if you don't mind me asking. She doesn't reply at first She only goes back to studying the watch She holds her hands above it And then I observe an awe as she draws them suddenly back And a glowing representation of the watch's inner mechanisms

Are blown up and fixed in place in the air just above us Cogs and gears all stilled Whoa I murmur and she smiles Then she sighs and the smile escapes from her face You can see for yourself if you're really want, she says, pointing to the mirror in the corner of the room. Though it's not a fun story, so be warned, I guess. Cautiously, I make to head over, and she seems to have second thoughts. Wait, she says suddenly. Actually, I don't think that's much of a good idea. You should

just leave, honestly. The creatures won't hurt you. I'm just waiting here. Seriously, you don't have to look. But it's too late now. My curiosity is peaked, and it might as well count towards my safety and survival. So, I turned back to the mirror and stride towards it. Wait, she shouts as I put out her hand. And it passes through the surface of the mirror, like water. All around me at once is mist, swirling, glass-like mist and distorted cries from behind. Ellie is calling me back, but it's too late.

I have stepped through and now I'm falling. There is nothing to keep me anchored. And I land with a thump and a groan at the entrance to the school. I'm outside, but there is no snow right now. I jumped to my feet and receive some strange looks, as I'm surrounded by kids, all roughly my own age, though I don't recognise a single person by sight. I glance back to the building.

It's very different in the pale grey light, of this particular overcast morning, but is the same school alright? But when? I'm an avid reader, and it always infuriates me when I'm forced to spend paragraph after paragraph

and page after page, reading through the main characters gaping and gawking and narrow minor misbelief. So I swore to myself once, many years ago, that if I ever found myself in an unlikely and unpredictable situation, that I would do my best to just roll with it,

to take stock and act as logically as I'm able. So I take off my coat and wrap it around my waist. I smooth back some other ruffles in my hair and do my best to uphold their promise. I take a quick look behind me, but naturally any evidence of a mirror or any kind of ethereal doorway has vanished. Very well.

I turned back to the entrance doors to the school and I join my apparent peers, climbing the steps and heading on in the door. inside. The kids all around me are giving me strange looks, and I'm once again incredibly self-conscious. Who's the new kid? I hear one girl whisper to another. I glanced to my left at the school's logo. Admiralia had Lusome. I wonder for the second time what it might mean. Nothing probably. Schools round here love their Latin mottoes. Around where, Sam? Where the hell even are you? I reached down to my pocket for my phone

A new chance to check maps perhaps But my pockets are empty You can't take anything with you Comes the voice of Ellie from above and all around And I swivel on the spot Staring up at the ceiling Hey, where are you? I call out And the other conversations around me fall to a hush

And then change the stifled laughter Who the hell is this guy talking to? I flush and made a stride down one of the school's corridors, bumping hard into a girl in a bright purple coat as I do so, knocking her books to the floor. She looks up at me and flushes in turn, brow furrowed. And it's her.

It's Ellie. Ellie, I say. Help me out of here, please. Ellie's a little clue would be nice. She stares at me, expression uncertain. Then, after a pause, Sorry, do I know you? I cock my head.

It's Sam. We were speaking just now. You called out to me. She shakes her head, maintaining eye contact. No, no, sorry. I don't remember you. I'm sorry. Get a crypt, Sam.

Think logically. Right, I manage. I'm sorry. Here, let me help you with this stuff. I crouched down to the ground to collect the books. Two science books and a purple personal journal of some kind is fallen open to a page with a header. Last Day.

Beneath is a list of stuff. I managed to read a couple of the items in confusion before she snatches it out of my hand. I apologize to Mrs. Reeves, clear out locker. I look up at her. What does last day mean? I have to go, she replies quickly. stuffing her things into a bag and hoaring away into the crowds.

Hey, I call after her. Wait up, come back. But she does not. For God's sake, I muttered to myself, rubbing a hand across my forehead. Language, young man, comes the sharp voice of a teacher behind me. I turned to him. Oh, uh, sorry. He squinsed down at me. Do I know you, lad?

No, I'm... I'm new. Right. Well, you'll be expected in registration then, won't you? Name. I give it, and the teacher is, of course, unable to find me in the records at the desk. Well, he says, Just spend the morning with Mrs. Reeves.

Your timetable should largely follow that of the other students. Do you know if you're in history or geography? Ah, history, I lie, and the teacher nods. I'll have a schedule printed for you. Room 8G for now, though. Sam, and don't let me catch you again. Right, yeah, sorry, sir, gotcha. A nod and take a quick leave,

running the great barrels of new information through my head as I walk. Try my best a process to act soundly. Something rumbles in the distance. I swear I can see a glimpse of a shadow pass me by. But when I turn to look for the shadow source, there is nothing there, nor do any of the other kids seem to notice. I swallow anxiously.

Control your fear, learn what's going on and improvise. I have my suspicions already, but it'll be good to get confirmation. I follow the letters and numbers written on the doors until I find Classroom 8g, whereupon I knock and push through into the room, instantly awkward and aware of every movement of my body, as well as the eyes of the kids behind the desks shift to mine at once. and who might you be the teacher asks looking down the glasses at me my eyes start from her to the kids in the class to a girl sitting by herself near the back ellie i blurt out without thinking to an eruption of laughter from the room

ellie herself flushes a deep colour and looks down to a desk mrs reeves looks between us and sighs i find that very unlikely young man your name please sorry it's uh Uh, it's Sam. Well, Sam, you may as well take a seat next to Ellie for now, since you seem to know already. As I walk the length of the room and settle into the seat, the whispers and murmurs and giggles rise up almost immediately. Ellie shoots me a dirty look. What the hell did you do that for? She hisses at me as I sit down. Sorry, I say back.

It was an accident. I'm under a lot of stress, okay? Yeah, well, you're not the only one. She mutters under a breath. There's a strained pause. I think of Ellie, the ghost I met not an hour or so ago of the journal. Last day. Ellie, I begin softly.

How do I phrase this? Are you, are you planning on this being your last day? What? Are you planning to kill yourself? She swivels to stare right at me. "'What the hell is wrong with you?' she hisses just a little too loudly. "'Elly,' Mrs. Reeves calls from the front, interrupting her reading of register. "'Elly gives her an apologetic look, then turns right back to me.

"'Who the hell are you? genuinely. What are you doing here, Sam?' "'The exact same questions I was asking her a few long moments ago. "'I asked first, are you or are you not planning on doing it?' She chooses her cheek and looks away. No, I'm not. I don't believe you, I say to her. It doesn't matter if you don't believe me. Just do me a favour and leave me alone, okay?

To this, I say nothing, though. A few seconds later, she turns back to me. I is still downcast. Sorry, I didn't mean that. It's been a tough few days. Sure, it's... Yeah, it's okay. We sit together, and yet a chasm apart.

The bell rings to begin the day, and, much to Ellie's annoyance, I spend much of it trailing her around. I'm forced away from her by way of various seating plans and the like. Some kids try to introduce themselves to me, and I ignore them. A little rude, perhaps, but I have priorities here. I'm trying to work out the lay of the land. Ellie rejects and pushes back all my attempts to broach conversation. I can tell she's curious about me, but it isn't enough to stop her keeping me at an arm's length. She escapes me through the crowds completely at lunch and disappears entirely for the lesson immediately after.

And then, in the final period, I'm witnessed to an excruciatingly cringy display of her public speaking, as she stammers and fumbles for a painfully long time through an extract of Romeo and Juliet. It's so bad, in fact, that I forget why I'm here for a moment and struggle. to hold back giggles. Ellie seems less than amused and does not even look back when I call out after her at the end of the day.

2.59 p.m. reads the clock on the lobby wall as I left through the doors. At this time of year the sun has already begun to sink low in the sky. I'm walking behind her and we are leaving the school behind.

They let us go a couple of minutes early. A gust of wind ruffles through my hair and rustles the collar of my coat. my mood suddenly drops and I met with a stomach-churning sensation that I am running out of time Time Ellie, I call out, though it's becoming I find harder to speak I'm forced to project to raise my voice beyond a whisper

And there's a sensation again The feeling of walking through water I struggle against the winds and the thickness of its air The lowering sun glints orange And sends early shadows long And dark back towards me As the gap between us widens And all around

Are the creatures now Slow and rumbling They push aside the air at various heights They look down to the girl Hungry and eyes aglow One looks to me as it rises up And up into the air His jaws distends

And the mists shimmer and fog From behind of my side I am lost in the cloud as I call out for her, but my voice does not work the way it's supposed to. My sight is obscured, and I close my eyes tight shut. But when I opened them again, I am stumbling to the floor of the classroom. I land with a clatter and a grunt and a groan.

I clamber unsteadly to my feet and try to regather my bearings. Behind me is the mirror, softly shimmering as before. my dear Sherald reflection looks back at me the classroom is just as I left it I think though it is darker now we are well into the night Ellie or the ghost of Ellie is humming softly to herself

still studying the projection she is made of my watch's inner mechanisms she raises her hands and makes little circles of the fingers and as she does so the projected gears and cogs turn with them They slide into new places as she ponderes and tweaks. Have fun, she asks without looking over to me. No, I reply, not really. She smirks humorously. I'm sorry I wasn't better company.

Ellie, I stepped closer to the girl and sit down on the desk right beside her as a snow rages beyond the window. What happened here? Look, if you haven't worked it out by now, Then you're really never going to get it, Sam. She says. So, you ended yourself. Is that it? That was your last day, and you go home from school and take her in life?

Take my own life. So dramatic, she murmurs. But still, she does not look directly at me. One other monstrous heel shivers his way past the window. And this time, I swear I can hear a deep, low hiss to a company. It's subtle rumbling. I swallow down her mouthful of fear and in return to awareness of how cold the room is. My breath clouds.

Was it quite this cold before? The mood shifts. I've never been much good with stuff like this. It's just as well that I can't physically touch Ellie. Otherwise, I'll be trying to work out whether I should augally take a hand or something. Can I ask why? I say softly. And she finally stops doing what she's doing and turns out.

to look at me. She chews her tongue for a moment, then shrugs and brushes that loose strand of hair behind her ear. I was just sad, I guess, and there was no real chance for me to be less sad going forwards. There was just a lot of stress going on in my life. It was easier for everyone if I wasn't there. Bull crap, I reply, and she stares at me. Excuse me?

I said this bull crap. And suddenly, I'm angry. How could you do it? How could you do something like that? What the hell is wrong with you? Look at all that you've done. You're trapped here and you screwed the cosmic order of the universe or something. I don't know.

Why the hell do you even care so much? She shouts back at me. Why are you even still here? Just go. Go, Sam. It's too late now anyway. It's done. I shoot a look back behind me, tense and determined.

We'll see about that, I mutter. and turn my back to her. Sam, stop, she shouts as I leave her behind for the second time. As I stride right on back towards the mirror, the shadows of the night blown out, billowing behind me. I step forward through the shimmering gate of the mirror. I am again surrounded by mists and swirling, crystalline smoke, and again my footing is lost.

I grip my teeth through the fall and stumble to my side as the hard, cold, hard ground find his place beneath my feet. I knock into a boy besides me, and he grunts with a surprise. Hey, watch where you going, alright? Sorry, I tell him, straightening and pulling out an apologetic hand as I checked to confirm my surroundings. The son's position has changed back to the way it was, back to morning. The school stands before me, and the same roster of faces trudged the way of the steps to the entrance. I glanced down to my watch hand.

to confirm the time, to remember that A, I left my watch behind with Ellie, and B, the watch does not even work anyway. Hmm, fine. It makes no matter. It's the dawn of the day, the same day, final day. I set my jaw and marched my way up the steps and into the building, looking around for her. I bumped into it just over, over here, was it? Why are you doing this, Sam?

Comes her voice from above and all around. But I have the good sense not to shout out into the lobby this time in my response. I keep my head down and my mouth shut. And sure enough, there she is, holding her books to a chest as she rounds the corner and heads my way. She looks so sad. My heart throbs painfully and I push the feeling aside, heading over to her as she approaches. "'Hey, Ellie.' "'She looks up at me, startled and stops.

"'Um, hey, hi. "'Sorry, do I know you?' "'Ah, shoot. "'Um, no, I mean, yeah, you do. "'My name's Sam. "'I'm in the year above you.' "'She wrinkles her nose. "'No, you aren't.

"'Do you even go to this school?' "'Yes. Yeah, right, just kidding. I'm new. Sorry. I thought we met before, but maybe someone just told me your name. Sorry. There was an awkward pause.

What the hell was wrong with me? Stop apologising, Sam. Okay, well, nice to meet you. She grimaces and strides right past me. I fumed to myself quietly. You've screwed this already, you idiot. Oh, screw it. In for a penny, in for a pound, as they say.

I put up my hands. All right, you got me. You know what, Ellie? I'm not in the year above, and I'm not a new kid either. We met early this evening and you were dead, a ghost. I'm now trying to save you. This is the second time I play through this school day. She glances over a shoulder at me, but does not slow a pace.

She laughs awkwardly. Okay, great. Sorry, I really need to go. 8G, right? Good news. I'm coming with you. She clutches a box a little tighter to her chest And she weaves between the taller kids in the corridor

I put a hand on a shoulder It's soft and warm But she flinches away from my touch Please don't touch me She says quickly Right sure sorry But look please just hear me out I know what you've written in your journal

In the purple one You've written out your last day You've got bullet points for Apologise to Mrs Reeves And for clear out your locker She stares at me again as we arrive at the door 8G. How do you know that? I've some kind of stalker.

What do you want? I want you to not do it when you go home from school, Ellie. Okay? That's what I want. I say this a little too loudly. Hush falls in the corridor as faces turn to ours. And it takes a long, strained moment before the conversation resumes, in a lower tone than they had before.

Ellie fumes. Why did you have to say that? she hisses as her eyes start to water and her cheeks flush. My life is none of your concern. Just go away, please. And with this, she turns and pushes to the door into the classroom. And after a beat, I follow. The same spiel plays out as before.

Mrs. Reeves asks me to introduce myself to the class, though this time I remember to say my own name. And further, since it's neither recommended by the teacher, nor does Ellie seem in any kind of mood to now engage with me. I decide to give her a little space and sit instead next to the only other free seats in the room, next to a girl on the opposite side. Hey, she says as I sit down.

Hey, so where are you from, new kid? I tell her, and she shrugs. Oh, I thought you might have been from Australia. I hesitate. Why would I be from Australia? She shrugs and goes back to doodling in a book. There was a rumor that we were getting a new kid from Australia as all. Shame, I really liked the accent.

There is another pause as I process this nonsense. Then I chuckle awkwardly. Right, you did just hear me speak though, in front of the class? I wasn't really listening, she says airily. Right. Silence. Mrs Reeves reads through the register and I tap my knuckles against the desk, then gesture over to Ellie.

So, what's her deal then? Who, Ellie? The girl beside me looks up at once, eyes sparkling, and eyebrows raised. She puts down a pen and smirks. Do you like her? I flush and try not to respond to this directly. I was just wondering, is all. She would definitely date you if you ask.

That's adorable. Bit of a warning for you, though, new kid. I wouldn't go there. She's not exactly someone worth associating with. And why is that? I ask, briskly. The girl shrugs. I mean, you can if you want, but why bother?

It's not like she's interested in anything. But hey, it's a free country, so do what you want, I guess. I look back to Ellie. She sits quietly with a chin in her hand, staring ahead at nothing in particular. A long and slithering shadow is sent swimming across the room. I feel the seat and desk rumble as it passes by, but no one else in the room seems to notice. I swivel in my seat to look behind me through the windows at the back of the class. But there is nothing there.

My neighbour looks at me, amused. You're strange, she says simply. Mm-hmm, I reply, still looking through the window. for evidence of the watchful, waiting monstrosity. But the bell rings, and the morning begins, and it goes in much the same way as it did last time, with a few key differences. Firstly, there's no pretense on my part.

I'm 100% honest with Ellie. I walk through a mirror to get here, I tell her in the first lesson of the day, whispering to her from the seat behind. I'm not joking, this is the second time I'm living through the day. honestly the teacher's going to use an example from his home life in a minute listen we do so and sure enough the guy starts trying to link the subject matter to a semi-musing anecdote from his week ellie glances over a shoulder at me you're freaking me the hell out i don't know what you're trying to do but please stop i'm serious i've been speaking to a ghost ellie i know you love mechanics and how things work watches and stuff you need to listen to me this is insane saying, she hisses back. Who have you been talking to? This is cruel.

I release a breath of frustration through my nose. Why would you want to do it? I don't get it. Your life doesn't seem that bad to me. Please don't do this. Get lost. And with that, she turns around and ignores me for the remainder of the lesson, then sprints away the second the bell is rang. I run my hands through my hair.

This is not going to work. Maybe I should just do what she says. Just give up and leave a bee. I wonder what she's doing now, ghost Ellie, if she's watching me somehow. Or if she's playing around with a watch. Or sitting alone huddled in that cold, dark room as the monsters close in. I clench and unclench my fingers. I am here for a purpose.

I didn't just stumble onto this school by chance. There is a reason. There must be a reason. And Ellie can be saved. I'm sure of it. So, I keep on trying. Second lesson, I give her a bit of space and try to come up with a plan. I'm struggling to think, though, as my eyes feel heavier and heavier with every blink.

I've lost track of time, and my body clock is all sorts of screwed up right about now. I put my head down in my hands on the desk, just for a minute, and try to think. I see, in my mind's eye, the swirling shadow. of eels, eyes glowing in the wintry gloom as the snow cascades all around. I see Ellie, her hair rippling gently as if underwater. She looks back at me sadly as she rises up and out of reach into the storm. I see myself in the blizzard. I see the dark and empty school collapse all around me and caught in the gale. I see the lights of the street lamps go out One by one as the monsters close the distance, their jaws crack open with a hiss of icy steam,

and I'm jerked awake from my dreams by a shake of my shoulder. It's Sam, isn't it? Says the teacher, an eyebrow raised as I blink away my sleep. I can hear some of the other students giggling. I can only apologise if my lesson has quite literally bored you to sleep, but do try to stay alert, thank you. I nod apologetically. and the teacher returned to the front of the class.

I look immediately over to Ellie, but her eyes are downcast. Determination runs through me like a river. Save her. I'm able to follow her to lunch this time. She does not escape to the crowds, and so I watch as she gets her food and takes it to the table outside in the sun. It's still pretty cold, but I guess it's where she'd rather be. I take a seat not far away

But one out of a immediate line of sight As I tried to plan my next move I suppress a yawn and mull over my options As I do A group of kids approach her Two boys, three girls Ellie is not looking But the group are clearly egging each other on

I can't hear what they're saying But one of the girls is shaking ahead and laughing I watch as another one of them raise a plastic bottle and unclasped the lid. As the bottle is aimed and the first girl suddenly reaches over and squeezes the plastic between her hands and a stream of water is blasted

right under the side of Ellie's face down her clothes and over her food. And the worst part for me is the fact that she doesn't say a damn thing. She stays totally quiet as the group laughs. Oh my God! One of the girls says I'm so sorry. It wasn't me.

It was carrying her. She did it. and they keep laughing amongst themselves, passing blame as they make a quick and gleeful exit. Ellie only sits there, in silence. I get up at once to go over and see if she's okay. Hey, I say as I get closer. Are you all right? But it's clear as I draw near that it wasn't water sprayed over her, based on the smell that rises thick and strong.

It's vinegar. Jesus. I mutter as I stand there beside her, awkwardly. That's messed up. Ellie says nothing. Her eyes are covered by a fringe, but her cheeks are deep scarlet, and she grabs up her bag and strides suddenly off,

leaving her ruined lunch behind. Hey, wait, are you right, Ellie? I call after her, but she sprints away into the building and disappears round a corner. God damn it, I shout out to no one in particular. A gust of sudden windlass. rustles my collar.

And so, the day goes on. Ellie misses the next lesson, as she did on the first play-through, though I know why this time. And when she finally returns to English, the last lesson of the day, I feel my chest tightening as I realise that once again my time is running short. I head right over to her,

and she takes a step back at my approach, frustrating me further. Ellie, I'm not your enemy here for goodness sake. I say to her, please just hear me out. You're going to be picked on to read a passage out loud today. So maybe just read it over a few times in advance as practice. Act four, scene four, I think it was.

She squints at me as if trying to read me, searching for something inside, perhaps, and I wait patiently for an accusation or insult. But she says nothing. She simply sighs and walks right past to a seat. I am struck and not for the first time. by the ethereal kind of deep sadness, one that troubles and dismayes me as it washes over me.

And, as it happens, my advice was useless anyway. Ellie never gets to read out a section of Shakespeare. As the time draws near, instead of watching Ellie get called upon, the headteacher instead opens the classroom door. The heads of all the students turn to lock, and he calls Ellie out from the lesson. The class falls into hushcheon. silence as she gathers her things and steps outside, and after another minute or two, I excuse

myself to the bathroom and set off in pursuit. It takes me a good five minutes to locate the head's office, but once I do, I crack the door, cringing as I do so and hoping not to be discovered, and I listen in. Very troubling, hilly, comes the voice of the head. Then he pauses, but there is no response from the girl in question. He speaks on. We take threat to this very seriously, young lady. Very seriously indeed. Now, I wasn't there this morning, and I don't know exactly what was said.

I grimace and think back on what I blurted out to Ellie in front of all those people. But it's important that we talk this through. You can always rely on us here. Ellie snorts humorlessly. The head clears his throat and continues, and we have arranged for you to speak with the school's counsellor tomorrow morning. This will continue for as long as necessary. I will also, of course, need to inform your parents.

Ellie changes a tune here. I can sense the sudden desperation in her voice, and she begs. No, sir, please, don't call my parents. Please. It was just a dumb joke, sir, honestly. You don't need to call them. Please, don't. I'm sorry, Ellie, but I have a duty of care.

and with this Ellie breaks down my guilt is sharp as she cries behind the door and I take my leave What's the damn point I return to English and wait for it to come back but she does not Then at the end of the day

I am again waiting by the steps to the school at 259 There goes Ellie She walks right by with a backpack full I call out to her and she picks up the pace. The air grows thick. No, I mutter out loud. Not again, please.

Because the wind ruffles through my hair and rustles the collar of my coat. It's becoming harder to speak out. I'm forced to project to raise my voice beyond a whisper. And there's that sensation again. That feeling of walking through water. I struggle against the winds and the thickness of its air. The lowering sun glints orange And sends Ellie's shadow long

And dark back towards me As the gap between us widens And all around us Return the eels Slow yet rumbling They push aside the air As they form the mist and shadow They look down to the girl

Hungry and eyes are glow They're closer this time One looks over to me It's hazy yellow eyes meet mine And the clouds shimmer behind him beside I'm lost within it as I call out for her But my voice simply does not work in this moment My sight is obscured and I close my eyes tight shut

When I open them again I am stumbling to the floor of the classroom I trip and crash into a nearby desk With a grunt and grab hold of the counter beside me for balance It takes a second or two for the world to stop spinning I catch my breath And watch as Ellie plays with a holograph of the watch She carefully moves the gear into a new location

I wait for her to speak And eventually she does She winks and sticks her tongue out at me No look again, huh I am met with a sudden anger And I rise up to full height What the hell is wrong with you This isn't a game, I'm trying to save your life

I didn't ask you to do a damn thing She shouts back Why do you even care so much about me? I throw out my hands What do you want, Ellie? Do you want these things to get you? These eels in the sky? What even are they? Do you want to be saved? Ellie makes an oh sound. What a big hero we have over here, she says sarcastically. Big hero wants to save the poor girl. Well, it's too late. My decision was made and hell. I don't regret it. I'm fine. It's done. It's done and I feel great. You feel great?

She shrugs. Sure. Why not? I'm not. scared, I'm not afraid, I'm not terrified about what's going to happen next. There is no next. I'm free, Sam. I'm free. Well, if that's true, I say, then why not just let those things outside come and get you? Why not leave the building

and let them take you wherever? Then you'll truly be gone, gone forever, I guess, or wherever they take you, if they're even supposed to be here at all. To this, Ellie says nothing. She just brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, and she

looks out the window. The room, I suddenly realize, appears smaller than it was before. The desks and chairs are more closely clumped and the shadows are darker. The student paintings hung up across the wall. Were their colours always

so dark? And some of them, the self-portraits, the eyes no longer look as they did. The lines and the scratches in the paint appear more pronounced. The snowstorm rages. and the monsters drift through the wind.

This place is getting smaller, isn't it? I asked Ellie, looking around. The walls are closing in, literally. She nods and gives a harsh smile. It won't be long now, I should think. I slump back down on the desk and watched the snow, thick and white against the glass. I look down on my wrist to get a sense of the time.

But of course, there's not a lot of the night. no watch. And as always, the watch is broken anyway. I turn to observe Ellie, play with it for a minute, or at least the holographic spectral representation of the thing. So how come you're into that stuff then? I ask her, and she glances at me and brushes her hair from her eyes. It's just the intricacy of mechanisms, she replies, rotating gears, all turning and spinning together to make something work. I just think that is fascinating They make a thing greater than some of their parts

I nod quietly as I watch She shoots me a look Well aren't you going to make fun of me Why would I do that? I reply You agree Yeah I mean I'm no engineer My uh expertise

Isn't quite to the same level as yours I point to the ghostly gears and pieces of watch Spread out as they are in the air above us, but it's still interesting. Hmm, she says thoughtfully. We sit quietly for a while. After a few minutes, she sticks out a tongue in thought and furrows a brow, experimenting with the watchpieces and trying them in different locations.

And I tried to force down a rush of feeling. We're running out of time, aren't we? I say. Time? She echoes. Then nods. Yeah, we are. I don't want those things to get you, Ellie, and I don't want to be left here alone. I told you, Sam, she says, but she says it gently.

There's nothing keeping you here. The door is still there for now. You could leave if you want. There's something keeping me here, I say quietly. I just can't leave you behind. It's okay, she says, but I shake my head. Tell me about you, I say, and she starts. then swivels on the edge of the desk she sat on to face me.

She cocks her head. Tell you about me. I shrug. Sure. What's your story? My story? She laughs and it's a nice sound, though it fades quickly. She rubs her arm and looks down to the floor.

There's not much to tell. My dad was military, so moved around a lot, until recently. My parents are nice and I. enough people, but they're so cold. I can never talk to them. But I also couldn't stand letting them down. She sighs. I was one of those gifted kids.

The ones people make memes of nowadays. Waste their potential, etc. Honestly, it's a lame story. I like to draw. I like opening things up to see how they work and screwing around with the gears and bolts. I moved to the school two years ago because I was bothered at my last one. It's technically better here, I guess.

but nothing works out for me and I was sick of it Sam sick of not being in control so I took control and made a choice and I should stand by it she looks right at me but I don't see surety in her eyes I don't know what it is that I see

and what about you she asks what's your story crazy boy who wandered into my school pretty normal I was born further north but moved when I was really young. I go to St. Richard's school. I don't know that one, she replies.

Yeah, it's pretty far away. I don't know how I ended up here, to be honest. It's just where the bus dropped me off. It never gets lost, but last night, I guess it did. I sigh. I like football. My favorite color is green. School is pretty okay for me, I guess.

I'm not one of the popular kids, but, you know, I do okay. She nods. And this watch? It's old. Did it get passed down to you? It was my granddad originally. That's cool. So why did he give it to you?

She asks. Oh, he didn't give it to me specifically. He originally gave it to my older brother. It still worked back then. So did your brother give it you after? After it broke? Not exactly, I reply with a sad smile. I inherited it after he died.

Oh, Ellie says, as the dull sound of the storm rumbles softly outside. I'm sorry, do you mind me asking how he died? I hesitated, but then, same as you, actually. Oh. And we say nothing for a while after that. A long, long while. The terrible shadow of a drifting eel passes over the classroom. and it brings with it renewed both the existential and the very active fears I've been battling with since the beginning.

Let me help you, Ellie, I say to her softly. I watch his tears start to run down her face. Sam, I'm sorry, it's just too late. Too late. No, I refuse to believe it. So, without another word, I rise from the desk. I turn and grip my teeth and return to the mirror. striding on through and winting, as I am once again enveloped by swirling mist and glass-like fogs.

I clench my jaw, and, with a stumble, land this time on my feet as the vapour-like mists are blown out from my shoes and disappear into nothingness. I struggle with a momentary bout of queasiness, but I force it away. I open my eyes, and there is the school. As always, kids hanging out and having a little. heading on inside and above drifting through the air is one of the creatures shadowy smoke like black it slithers over the building with a low hiss i watch paralyzed as it cracks open its jaw showing me its monstrous teeth as it swims quietly overhead it brings with it the cold

a chill that shivers across me as i watch the monster disappear into the airs fading with way as quickly as it had appeared. I've got to make this one count. I break the spell and jump up the steps and into the building. I ease my way through the crowd and wait by the corridor I know she's going to come from. Any second now. And there she is. Hey, I say to her as casually as possible, and she looks up at me in her for the first time.

Hey, she replies cautiously, and a gesture to the handful of books she's carrying. Can I give you a hand? She just looks at me in confusion as kids wind their way around us and through the lobby. With your stuff, I mean, I can help carry it if you want. Oh, she says. No, it's fine, but thanks though. Sure. Hey, could I walk with you?

She hesitates again and loves. looks around, looking for some evidence that this is a trap or a play of some kind, and my heart goes out to her. Um, yeah, that's fine, she says quietly, and so we walk together, through the lobby and down the halls to wait G. So, um, are you new here then, or, yeah, I reply, I'm new, I'm Sam, by the way, Ellie. She gives me a quick half-smile. I'm going to register right now.

I'm 8G with Mrs. Reeves. Oh, yeah, that's the same for me. Is she nice, Mrs. Reeves? Yeah, Ellie replies, and I detect a little melancholy in her voice. She is nice. I have to talk to her today. Oh, yeah, how come? I ask. And again, she hesitates as she thinks on how to respond.

I just need to apologize for some stuff. She's a good teacher, and I feel. feel like I'm, like I've been letting it down. If she's a really good teacher, then I'm sure she would disagree, or understand at least, I offer, but Ellie only shrugs as we enter into the classroom. Once the kids have all settled down, I'm once again asked to introduce myself. I give the correct name and coolly take my seat beside Ellie. I suppress a series of yons and have to force my eyes open at various intervals as the morning progresses.

I'm so damn tired. I am perhaps also a little overbearing in my attempts to get Ellie to open up. I can imagine you, listener, shouting at me to chill the hell out. And I get it. But cut me some slack. I'm under a lot of stress here and time is not on my side. I'm just trying to help this girl, okay, since she seems so reluctant to do it herself. I tell her about when I was bullied.

as a young kid, tried to get her to open up in turn. She is sympathetic, but a closed book. She's so different to how she is in that classroom, compared with a ghost deli. But I persist. She gets frustrated with me at lunch when I refuse to let her sit outside. I try to steer her elsewhere, but she doesn't understand why,

nor can I really explain it. I'm distant during the mealtime conversation as I watch with one eye over a shoulder, making sure the group with a bottle of vinegar don't come this way. And then, when it comes time for her to speak out in English, I cringe through a dreadful reading. But do my best and nod along and seem supportive.

It's fine, I whisper from beside her. Just take your time. But she shoots me a look, and I'm not sure if she even appreciated my support or was only embarrassed by it. And by the day's end, as the lesson draws to her clothes and we're in the process of gathering up our belongings. Hey, Ellie, so what are you up to this evening? I ask her, and she laughs nervously.

Um, what? This evening, what are you up to after school? I'm busy. Lots of stuff to do. Maybe we could do it together, I gather my courage. Maybe I could come round. The kid at the desk beside us shoots me a look and a smirk Ellie flushes You want to come around to my house Sure Why? Because I struggle for justification

And swallow my pride Because I like you and want to spend time with you You like me No you don't, you've known me for a day Her body language becomes more uncomfortable, restless. I'm also not thrilled by this rejection. I'm no ladies' man, but I didn't think I was that bad of a catch. I think it could be fun.

I manage, glancing down to my non-existent watch, and then look up to the clock on the wall. 2.57. Sorry, Sam. I'm just... I'm not sure. I'm just worried about you, Ellie, is all, I say, conscious. of the time ever ticking away.

This makes a pause. She repeats my words. Why would you be worried about me, Sam? I shrug and tried to deflect. I don't know, I'm just... You seemed a little sad today. I seemed a little sad. Jeez, is there an echo in here?

I chuckle anxiously. Sam, you've known me for a day. How do I seem a little sad? I just don't want you being alone tonight, that's all. Maybe I could come back and spend some time with you at your place. She takes a retreating step and adopts a cold defensive stance. You know something is up, don't you? What do you know, Sam?

What's going on? I glanced to the clock. The other kids have all filtered out of the room now. 258 is just Ellie and me. Ellie, I just don't want you to do. to do anything stupid, something you might, regret, I guess. There's still so much to be positive about. You have so much value in your life, even if you don't see it. Ellie puts a sudden hand to a mouth and represses an escaping sob. I begin to panic as a eye start to fill with tears.

It's that obvious. You've known me for a day, a day, and you already know, don't you, that I hate my life? If you can see it, then who else can? Does everyone know and nobody gives it to him? She jokes out of words. I'm just done, Sam. I'm so done with all of it. Ellie, it's, it's okay. I didn't. But Ellie runs off, through the door and down the halls.

I take after her. Ellie! But through the school she goes, out and descending the little stone steps and long strides. And the air grows thick. No, I scream. Please, please just stop. I guess the wind ruffles through me.

my hair and rustles the collar of my coat. There's that sensation again, the feeling of running through water. I struggle against the winds and the thickness of its air. The lowering sun glints orange and sends Ellie's shadow long and dark back towards me as the gap between us widens. No, I cry out, no! And all around us are those terrible, nightmarish creatures. They seem faster now, slicker in their movements.

rumbling as they push aside the air, slithering through the growing mist and deepening darkness. They look down to Ellie, hungry and eyes aglow. The sky, it would suddenly seem, is full of them. They shimmer with the clouds, and my line of sight is lost beneath billowing mist and swirling fogs. I am falling, my throat hoarse and my hands clenched as the wind rushes past my face. And here I am, stumbling. and staggering to the floor of the classroom through the mirror. I keep my footing, put knock into a group of clustered chairs upon my return.

I grab hold of a desk for balance as I catch my breath and wait for the world to stop spinning. I retch as my chest rises and falls, rises and falls. I look up to see Ellie sat there, cross-legged on the counter. She isn't playing with the watch this time. She makes no jokes. She's just looking at me in silence The counter is closer to the mirror than it was before

The room is smaller Yet the window it seems is wider I can see the monstrousy Ors squirming patiently in the world beyond Drifting through the snow and the storm in the darkness The rumbling is ever present now Anticipatory and warning I can feel the vibrations through the wood of the desk

They are closing in Slowly but surely The walls are closing in And the window is widening And the storm is growing stronger I sigh I keep failing Ellie

She says nothing Do you even want to be saved Again She says nothing I don't get angry though this time I just rub my jaw and look through the window I'm not some delicate flower that needs saving Sam She says

I can't just sit by I say desperately I can't just sit by and watch you throw your life away I made my choice Sam It's done But it doesn't have to be It doesn't the mirror the creatures You've been given a second chance don't you get it And you have to take it

You have to take it It's my life I'm allowed to do with it what I choose but is this what you want Ellie what you actually want it can't be I'm sure of it I've seen it in your eyes a part of you regrets this

all of this I'm not happy when I'm alive Sam she says firmly and I was tired so tired and now I'm free but don't you get it don't you see

that way that you are now inquisitive and funny and lively and you give out as good as you get yourself assured and confident She flushes. This, Ellie, this is how you could be all the time when you're alive. I'm not saying it's easy, but practice makes perfect. A change of mindset is a good start.

Get some med, get some professional advice, a change in how you project yourself. I stumble over my words. I know I'm spewing a lot of cliches here, but I'm speaking from the heart. In the corner of my eye, I catch glimpses of the painted portraits across the walls, clumped together there is essentially no wall space between them. The faces are dark and twisted, scary and unsettling. I struggle to focus on them for too long as one struggles to focus on faces in a dream. Ellie looks to my grandfather's watch, majestic but broken on the surface of the desk.

She puts out her hand and the projected gears and cogs all spin in an intricate pattern right above it. and very softly she says one more thing you can't fix a person's head in a day sam no i reply perhaps not but i can convince them to live till tomorrow and so i turn exhausted shadows swim in the corners of my vision and my movement seemed paradoxically both airy and sluggish but i stride onwards with the rumble of the eels and the hiss of their terrible joy in the back of my head with a roar of the winds in my ears with body bruised but constitution sharp I go for one more time and this will be my last time I can feel it no more chances now as I make my final march to the mirror between the worlds so through the mirror I go wary but bitterly determined Ellie wants to live.

She might still be too stubborn to admit it, but she wants to live. I can see it, I can feel it. I know what a will to live looks like, damn it, and what the lack of one looks like too. The world warps around me. The rumbling and the hissing grows louder as that crystalline smoke and mist blows up and around my face and the wind roars. But I land squarely on my feet. The clouds dissipate, and without skipping a beat, I head directly towards the school doors.

The shadows seem ever dark now. There are monsters in the air. I can see them, though I pay them no mind, ignoring the fear that tries to take its hold of me as I walk. As I approach the front doors, I allow a deep breath before heading inside.

All around me is the typical, chart-like bustle of a relatively mundane school day, supposedly at least. But this is anything but. It is extraordinary because I get to spend it with Ellie, the most interesting girl I've ever met. And there she is. She hasn't noticed me yet, but she approaches, clutching her books to a chest. I gather my courage and from above comes a voice.

Ask me about my jacket, she says in a whisper. Make sure you ask about the jacket. A log of words as a past self enters into speaking distance. Hey, I say to her, and she smiles and looks up at me. I smile and cautiously she smiles back. I shrug apologetically. Sorry to bother you, I say with a lopsided grin that comes all too naturally. I'm new here.

I pause. Well, kinder. I'm only here for the day really. And I think I'm supposed to start in 8G? Oh, she replies. Um, yeah, I'm in 8G. Do you, do you want to show you? I nod.

Yeah, that would be great, thanks. And after she gestures, I fall in step alongside. I comment on a coat. I like a jacket. It's true. She looks at me, gauging my authenticity. For real? For sure, it's cool.

She took a strand of loose hair behind her ear. Thanks, she says. And I hear warmth in a voice. My name is Ellie, by the way. It's nice to meet you. And you, I reply. My name is Sam. And so, the day goes on.

A day like so many before. A day uniquely and tragically beautiful. Many days are, I start to realize. When no one cares to consider, I actually pay attention to her. as a person today, not just as a project to fix. I noticed for the first time the flash of a shining silver watch of her own beneath her sleeve, and I ask her to show it to me.

She does so gladly. I ask her where she got it, and she says it was a gift from her parents for good grades about three or so years ago. She gets sad and tells me she doesn't do so well in school anymore. She finds it harder and harder to focus, to care. Her grades are slipping, and she feels like they'll never come back up. I just don't have the right headspace,

she murmurs to me as she doodles in the corner of a textbook. I doubt that, I reply. I don't know how to advise you, but I really believe you can get back into the zone. Someone like you, you can find a way back. She scoffs, but I catch a little smile as she does so. I talk to her about my own watch, how it's broken and timeless.

I describe it to her, and she suggests some ideas on how to fix the thing. But of course, her suggestions go in one ear and help the other. She laughs when she catches the expression of cluelessness on my face, and the day goes on. I sit with her at lunch on the little table just outside. I watch as the bitterly familiar group of kids approach. Two boys, three girls. They aren't in Ellie's line of sight, but they're clearly in the process of egging each other on. I wait for them to approach, but it's taking them longer to do so this time.

I think my presence here is making it harder for them to make up their minds. I decided to call out to them preemptively. Are you guys okay over there? I say amiably enough. They laugh as if sharing some intense and intimate joke. They come a little closer. You two having fun? One of the boys says as a girl glances to a friend with a grin.

raising the water bottle filled with vinegar at the two of us, moving to unscrew the lid. I reach up and grab it right out of her hand. As expected, the group acts as if I've done them some great dishonour. Chill, what the hell? One of them says. You were going to squirt this right at us, I reply. We weren't, the girl replies. Yes, you were, I reply, Deadpan.

Ellie watches with a raised eyebrow. She seems less intimated this time. More bemused. We were just screwing around, man, says one of the boys. Right, is my only reply. I let the word hang dead in the air, waiting until they continue the laughter and go back their way and on with their conversations. But crucially, Ellie and I are able to go on with ours. Then, when lunch comes to an end, I tell Ellie I'll meet up with in class and take a little detour. I approach the bench that they're sitting on and raise the bottle up high, opening the lid

and blasting a cold stream of vinegar under the backs of all their heads. And I take off, laughing, as they scream and squeal with distress. The hours of the day roll by. I pushed through my exhaustion, doing my best to brush away Ellie's concern when she comments on it. I just smile at her and hope that the dark circles beneath my eyes. are, at the least, somewhat aesthetic. The orange yellow glow of the sun filters in through the classroom windows.

It catches in her hair as she brushes it behind her ear, and it glints with the watery shine in the paws of her eyes. The sound of the general muttering and murmuring of our classroom is a faint but steady backing melody from all around, accompanied by the occasional scrape of a chair and the scribbling of pens on paper. No one but me notices the orange yellow yellow. light is lost beneath sudden shadow. As the eyeg breeze blows in from the only open window, as the blinds are thrown back from

the glass, and the enormous spectral eel from beyond the plane drifts hungrily past, closer than ever before I hear it rumble. It shakes the desk and rattles the wall as it swims impossibly by, black-grey and slick, terrible in pursuit. I do my best not to react as its hiss shivers through the shade. I try to still the existential fear that has plagued me since the beginning. I tried to block the monster from my mind's eye. The clock on the wall of the classroom ticks.

Tick, tick, tick. And after a shiver, the light returns. When English comes around, I volunteered to speak in Ellie's place. I offer to riddle out the passage of Romeo and Juliet before the teacher can call upon her. And hey, I flip some of the harder sentences, but I do a pretty good job. To be honest, I think that most of the kids in the class were relieved to some degree or another that they didn't have to suffer through the anxiety of being picked on either. The day, as it always eventually does, is drawing to a close.

2.57 p.m. The teacher led us out early. And we walk, Ellie and I, side by side down the length of the corridors as the bustle and clamour filters out through the doors around us. Each footstep feels heavy. The sound of the clocks grow louder and louder with each tick of the hand, and each blink feels heavier and heavier on my eyes. Hey, Ellie says to me as we leave the day behind us,

as our imprints drift and dance from place to place in the building's memories. I was wondering, um, Do you have a Snapchat or anything? Sure, I reply, reaching for my phone. But of course, it isn't there, and I cannot for the life of me remember my username. I apologize and tell her this. Ah, she shrugs and brushes a strand of hair beyond her ear.

That's no worries. Here's mine. She reaches into a bag for a purple journal and tears of a corner of a page, scribbling her username down onto a paper before handing it to me. Or you could just give it to me tomorrow if you want. I shift. I'm not quite sure if it's my imagination, but I swear I can hear the steady, repetitive beat of a drum in the distance, over and over and tying to the ticking of the clock.

Ellie, the thing is, I say, as you pass through the lobby and out of the doors, into the brisk, cool air beyond. I don't think I'm going to be here tomorrow. In fact, I definitely won't be. I'm just passing through. She stops and turns to look at me. Oh, she says, that's right. There's a pause.

You know, I never did ask you. What's the reason for that? Why would a kid like you show up to a school for a single day and then just disappear? I smile at her, but I fear that it doesn't quite reach my eyes. The light of the steadily lowering sun shines bright on her face. It's like I'm seeing her in high definition as the breeze gently rustles her hair. She adjusts the bag and cocks ahead at me. The clock ticks.

Ellie, I have to go now, I say simply, trying to keep the emotion in my voice to a minimum. Can she feel it? Can she feel the intensity and importance of this moment? You have to go now, she laughs. So dramatic. She knocks me on the shoulder, and after an intimate hesitation, she passes me by and sets off down the road

and steadily away from the school. I don't know what I'm going to do without you, though. She calls back over her shoulder. A joke, sure, but its depth does not go unnoticed. You only met me today. I call to her as the wind blows, ruffling my hair and rustling the collar of my coat. Who knows who you'll meet tomorrow? The air thickens all around and the lowing sun glints orange.

It sends Ellie's shadow long and dark back towards me as the gap between us widens. But it illuminates her silhouette, a bright outline of shimmering golden light. I take a difficult step forward, and I am for the last time. falling through the mists and swirling crystalline fogs. The wind rushes past my face and ears and the gale is loud as I breathe in a blast of icy, wintry air. Tears run from my eyes against my will and I stumble through the surface of the mirror

and into the familiar deserted classroom with a crash. And when I find the strength to look up, it truly is deserted this time. Dark and empty. there is no one else here there is no Ellie I wipe a sleeve across my eyes the shape and size of the place

has returned to its normal metrics and the lights I don't fail to notice are all off no yellow light filters into the glass of the classroom door from the corridor the pictures and paintings on the walls no longer appear frightening or in any way threatening

and whilst my heart beats fast there do not appear to be any great monsters drifting through the snowstorm outside. Ellie, I murmur, but there is no response. She's gone. And you know, I think it might just be time that I left as well. So I take my grandfather's watch from its place on the desk and hastily attach it around my wrist, pushing out through the door and walking steadily through the cold shadows and down the stairs.

Through corridor after corridor until I return to the lobby. I passed by the emblem of the school, emblazoned on the wall. At Meloria, at Lusum. I'll research it when I get home. I'll find out where this place is exactly, the coordinates if I have to, just in case. I reach into my pocket for Ellie's note, the one she tore from a purple journal. But it's not there. To my frustration, I find that that too has gone.

I struggle with an emotion I find difficult to describe. Was I successful? Was I enough? Did I save her? Did I save Ellie? Or was it too late? I hesitate at the entrance to the school. I turn and take one last long look around the lobby.

One final check. Waiting. Waiting. hoping that Ellie might appear to me one last time to let me know she's okay, to say goodbye at the least. But she does not appear, and nothing happens. The wind whistles beyond the doors. And so, I take my leave. I push on out into the cold as my hair is blown back from my head, and I stride out into the snow and the haze, trudging through it and back to the road, following the familiar orange glow of the street lamps, continuing my route and pushing ever forward.

I see a face in my mind's eye. I hear a voice in my head. I have to get home now, I think to myself, before I collapse from exhaustion into the snow. My parents are probably worried sick after all. I don't even know how long have been lost. I raise my watch to my face and squint to the snow. It catches in the orange glimpse of the street lamps. and it ticks. I pause for a second beneath the overhead glow, and I watch as the intricate hands of my grandfather's, then brothers watch go surely and steadily ground.

Dutifully around the face of the watch they go, ticking on and on, as they were always supposed to. Huh, I murmur aloud, as I set off. into the storm