"Non Esistono Piu"
~"No Longer Exist"
The first year on my high school doesn't seem to be really interesting. I hate everything at school, the teachers, the subjects, and also classmates, I really hate everything related to school. Especially, this school is a boarding school! My mother really wanted to kill me!
The school gives us free right to choose which room we can place. I choose a room on the second floor, on the end of the corridor. It's quite creepy there but the view is great and it feels chilly at night.
When I enter I put my luggage on the floor and walk inside the bathroom to take a bath. The water is cold, they don't have any heater. I shiver on the thought of taking cold bath in a chilly morning.
After I dried myself, I went out of the bathroom to see someone—a guy, maybe my roommate—is sitting on the bed, staring at me contently. He had his white, small hands put on his lap and his big, blue eyes fixed on me.
"Hello," I tried to be friendly. Still wrapped with towel on my waist, I extend my hand toward him. "You must be my roommate. My name is Joseph. They called me 'Silver', though, because my hair was dyed silver before the holiday ended."
"Cailyn," he replied, voice thin and low. He grabbed my extended hand and shook it lightly. His hand is really soft for a guy, and cold, whereas it's burningly hot here. "Nice to meet you, Silver."
"Your name is really uncommon," I laughed a little, ignoring the fact that I haven't dressed properly yet. "You have red hair and blue eyes. Are you from Scotland?"
"No," he replied, looking at me sharply. "I'm from Transylvania."
"That vampire city?" I laughed. He doesn't laugh, though. "They said that a kid with red hair and blue eyes who was born in East Europe brings disaster."
"Yeah," he murmured. "I, too, bring disaster."
I stop laughing. Cailyn stared at me emptily. For a moment I felt my heart skipped a beat. But I know, this guy is no ordinary person.
Cailyn Rafford. No one in this school is familiar with that name except of me, because he is my roommate. He doesn't talk much, and he spends his day with studying or just reading horror novels. His skin is really pale and I think almost transparent. He always wears turtleneck or scarf to cover his neck, but one day I accidentally opened the bathroom door when he was taking a shower. I see there are so many scars and some little bruises like hickeys on his pale neck. There is also a mark like something tight like rope was tied on his neck.
Cailyn is a free person—no class was taken. He can be anywhere, if our class was scheduled to take Biology, he'll skip it and take Chemistry. Sometimes, if he doesn't want to study, he will just sit under a tree in a field near school and read his horror novels. The teachers and also the students don't seem to notice him. He can just roam the school anytime, anywhere.
"Hey," I said to him one day, after fifth period. He is sitting under his favorite tree. "There's a homework you should give to Mr. Barnes tomorrow."
"That doesn't matter," he answered shortly. He let his red hair fall on his blue, bright eyes. "What are you doing here?"
"Telling you about the homework," I replied. He looked up from his book and smile to me. I feel my cheeks grow hot.
"You don't really need to do that," Cailyn speaks again, his voice is really thin, like a girl's voice. "I don't need to do the homework."
"Why?" I asked spontaneously. "You skipped every lesson and not wanting to do homework?"
"That's because I skip every lesson that I don't need to do the homework," Cailyn answered calmly, making me tilt my head slightly. "No need to be that kind, Silver."
When I stand up to make my way back to the school, I see some of his scars are exposed from above, hidden behind his silky scarf.
"Hey, it's midterm," one of my friend exclaimed in joy. "It means our rooms are going to be switched."
"Why?" I frowned. "I love my room."
"My roommate is grumpy, I hate him. He always got angry with me because I spilled orange juice all over the carpet or not flushing the toilet," my friends complained. I just laughed. "But, Silvie, you placed the room on the end of corridor, right?"
"Yeah," I answered half-heartedly. Suddenly Cailyn's face flashed through my mind. "The one which looks creepy."
"It hasn't been placed for years, you know," my friend said. He looks a little surprised because I could stand placing that room for six months. "Five years ago, a student committed suicide in that room. He was a victim of bully, and at the end he hung himself."
"That doesn't matter," I replied dryly, but actually something is knotting inside my stomach. "I have been used to that room."
"Be careful, sometimes the angry spirit of that student shows himself," my friend tried to scare me, but I just laugh it off.
Today it happens again—as if it was planned. I come back to the dormitory late in night because of basketball practice, and accidentally open the bathroom door again, without realizing that Cailyn is using it. He is standing in front of the washbasin, checking the scars and bruises on his neck, with towel wrapped on his slim waist. His pale torso looks really scary with his ribs showing on his skin.
I screamed my apology. He just smiles and tells me that it's okay. After taking my bath, we talked about what my friend said earlier, about the student who committed suicide.
"I knew about it, it's a really great rumor in this school," Cailyn commented, rubbing his neck. I have never asked about where the scars come from, or how many is that, or since when he has them. Some looks like hickeys and kiss marks which may be given by his ex-girlfriend. "Five years ago, a student committed suicide because of depression. He was always bullied and he was stressed because of the homeworks."
"Does he… harm anyone?" I asked, a little bit afraid. I feel a gust of wind swept my nape and I quickly rubbed it.
"The student's ghost."
Cailyn smiled. He's beautiful and his eyes are brighter than every sapphire I've ever seen. "He doesn't."
"Do you believe in that? That the student's ghost can appear in this room and shows himself to the person staying in the room?" I asked again.
Cailyn took a deep breath. He also took my right hand, and led it to trace the scars and bruises on his pale, white neck. I feel my breath hitched.
"Can you feel that?" he asked, sounded breathy. I feel my breath got heavy, too.
"My… bruises… the scars they left…"
"It feels good when you touch them."
Cailyn pulled me in a hug, the first one we had. I gasped in surprise before letting him go. He stared at me contently—there's pain in his eyes.
"You're the first person who treated me nicely," he tells me, sobbing. "They always… beat me up… scratching my… neck…"
"What are you talking about?" I asked, my heart beats furiously, nervous and a little scared. Cailyn looked up to me.
"They never… wanted to talk to me, even the teachers… nobody wanted to be my roommate…"
"Cailyn, what are you talking about?" I asked, the hairs on my nape stand.
"Even after I left them, they kept talking about me," he said again, a little groaning this time. "Silver, you're really… nice to me… for being my roommate…"
I frowned, not realizing what we are talking about. But suddenly, my brain took control and without thinking of any manners, I extend my hands and ripped open his shirt. He gasped. I saw his pale chest, ribs showing up on the skin and—the bruises on his neck. It's scary.
Without thinking any further, I put my ear on his chest, right above the ribcage which protect his heart.
It's not beating.
I feel cold all of a sudden. Cailyn smiles at me—but it's scary. I screamed like crazy. Staying with a ghost for six months.
"Silver," he whispered, extending his hands and pull me again in a hug. "You're really nice to me. You're my friend, I will never let you go. You're really nice to me.."
I tried to release myself. But the embrace got tighter and he even buried his fingernails into my back. His bare chest made a direct contact on my chest. It feels as cold as ice. As he raised his face to look at me, the blue eyes I always adore changed into a pair of eyes which look like rotten flesh balls and the orbs look dried. I realized where do all the scars and bruises come from. He is the student which committed suicide five years ago.
"Silver," he whispered again, lips right on my ear. "I love you."
With that, he took me with him.