She just sits there at the far corner of the hall, about 9 or 10 o’clock every Tuesday morning. She often draws on her sketchbook while waiting, her large bag beside her. Her clothes, books and bag changes, but those eyes never did. They always look so determined every time she draws, so blue, so beautiful.
After drawing, she will always check her watch before leaving. I noticed that she doesn’t have any class every Tuesday morning and yet she never fails to sit on that corner and draw. She always sits there, drawing something I don’t know—for I never tried to peek, watching her draw and watching her beautiful face is enough—and I will always be here to watch her… forever and a day.
When the lunch bell rings, she will return with a bag breads and drinks or sweets, and she’ll eat on her corner while she waits for her classmates and friends.
Is there something special about that corner? Why does she always sit there? I’ve always wondered. I wanted to ask her, to talk to her, to sit next to her… but I can’t. I just can’t.
Soon enough, her friends will come. She always greets them with her wide child-like smile, and shares with them some of her food, if there’s any left. She’s quite voracious for someone with a slim waistline, but I’m not one to talk. Before I came here, I was a glutton too.
Chatting with her friends, she looks so happy, so cute… but there are times when she coughs when she laughs, there were even times when a chuckle would cause her to catch her breath. That always make her friends worried, but she just shakes them off with a shrug and a joke.
That was her routine—and mine—every Tuesday morning. But our mundane habit changed… slowly, it was broken.
Once, she suddenly fainted after class. I watched her through the window, watched as that beautiful face was tainted with a bitter smile. I watched until her class was over, watched as she stepped out of the classroom and fainted after a few steps. Before she fell on her knees, she had this disappointed look as if she was a racer who barely made to the finish line, just barely. Her struggle was not enough.
Since then, she was absent for about two weeks. I miss her. When will she return? How long must I wait? Can I still see her? Will I still be allowed to? But when she did return, she was a bit different. She was huffing and wheezing, and when she sat down on her corner, she didn’t draw… exhausted, she just rested there. And when her friends came, they had to help her stand. Why? Why does it seem that she’s disappearing? Why?!
What happened? Will she be alright? I miss that determined face. I miss her smile. After that, she was gone for another week. Another week without seeing her… another lonesome week…The hall is filled with other people… yet nobody there was her. It was empty. How many days will I miss her? How many days do I have to wait?
One noon, her friends arrived, sad and some were even stressed. I eavesdropped on them. I know it’s not very kind of me, but I was worried. Most of them said that she was sick, some were trying to lie to themselves by saying that she’ll be back and be smiling like she used to, but all of us know that that’s not going to happen.
She’s already… disappearing.
I got worried, more than I already am. Did she catch a cold? I wanted to go to her place and visit her, but I don’t even know where she lives. I can’t even leave this place. Damn! I’m not allowed to. I might get punished if I dare disobey…, but I want to see her. I want to be beside her. Just one glance… just a peek…
The teacher then came and everyone entered the classroom… everyone but her. Time flew by, and I still can’t stay still. I already lost count of how many times I paced back and forth that hall.
That’s it! I can’t take it anymore. I’ll visit her… nobody would notice me anyway; no one ever did.
Just when I was to leave—escape, actually—she came. Her fine skin and her pink lips were pale, her beautiful blue eyes were nearly faint, and that once strong body that used to carry many things before is staggering, struggling.
What happened to you?
“Are you out of your mind?!” I want to help, open the door for her, carry her bag for her— hell, I’ll carry her on my arms if I could, but I can’t. So I just shouted at her. She won’t hear me I know that, but… I couldn’t help it. The remainder of my heart couldn’t possibly ignore her.
“Just why did you come here? What for?!” She held knob with her shaky hand, flimsy violet hued fingertips rested on the cold metal she could hardly turn. “Go home! You’re sick!” But she won’t listen… and just smiled at me. And I was mesmerized. That dying beauty was so cruel yet it gave me pleasure to see her smile at me, to look at me and me alone.
Wait… She… sees me?!
She entered the room. I watched her through the window as she slowly and carefully take gentle steps. Everyone was watching her, they all want to help her, but she won’t let them. And when she reached her seat, touching the back of her friends, she fainted.
Her classmates hurriedly went to her side and carried her to the clinic. I wasn’t allowed to leave that floor, but I couldn’t resist the feeling of worry so I went after them, after her. And outside the clinic I watched her friends worry, panic, cry and even fight. I couldn’t blame them. They were all irritated, all worried of her.
The teacher called for 911. Everyone wanted to go with her in the ambulance, but only the teacher was allowed. I sneaked in. In the hospital, the doctors performed an operation on her heart. It was weak.
When her family came, her father and mother were already arguing and pointing fingers at each other. They were loud. Too loud that I failed to notice an innocent girl calling to me… that was until she said “Hurry. Sister’s waiting for you at the staircase…”
With no time to waste, I went back to the school. I rushed my way up. I couldn’t run or climb the stairs as fast as I did before, not with these feet, but I don’t care. I just wanted to be with her, by her.
She was there, sitting on my spot in the staircase just in front of her corner, impatiently tapping her shoes. She stopped tapping them when she noticed me, smiled and waved a faint hand. Beautiful, pale and departed… I went and sat beside her.
“Are you sure you want to be here?” I asked.
“I’m pretty and sure.” She giggled.
“I’m serious.” I told her. “Your love ones will miss you.”
“But you’ll miss me too, right my cute Mr. Ghost?”
“Yes…” I admitted. Lying is unnecessary after all. “I’ve always thought of you.”
“Me too…”
And since then we sat there, watching as students pass by us… together… always and forever. Not everybody will notice us, most of the few that can see us will ignore us, but it’s fine. We have one another. Just like a gentle breeze, we exist even without anyone other than us knowing where we came and when and where we will rest.
