𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐍𝐓──── creepypasta.

𝟎𝟐.

    "They're holding a ceremony for him," Konz said quietly, his face etched with a little grief, his eyes downcast

"Who?"

Konz hesitated, his brows furrowing into a deep, troubled frown. He glanced at you, his gaze heavy with an emotion that wasn't easy to witness. "Max..." His word was barely an answer, more of a reminder, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity of worry that made your chest tighten and rip apart as they knotted together..

"[Name], are you sure you're alright? The Nurse gave you a chance to go home but you refused."

"I told you, I'm fine," you insisted, your voice sounding more defensive than you intended. The truth was far from it; you felt anything but fine. Actually, you never felt anything. You couldn't tell, everything felt like nothing.

The ceremony was carried out in the presence of a mournful audience of teachers and pupils, if they were sincere, in the university campus' main hall. With the light from the candles flickering and the walls covered in complicated shadows, the setting was thick with gloom. A prominently displayed photograph on a little table appeared to be keeping vigil over the space.

"Let's just head to the ceremony, preferably the back row."

"It's not like people who are attending actually care about him anyway." you replied with bitterness coming out of your tongue.

Mira volunteered to help organize the seats, so it was just you and Konz together. You found yourself glancing around every few moments, the hair on your arms would perk up whenever a student gave you a glare. The whole campus was widely aware of you being the first witness. Today, they gossiped about trivial things, but you couldn't care less. While you were finding seats, a few students had circled you like a predator, their prey, but you weren't surprised. Bothered? Maybe. There will be no possible way that you would see the sight of them, you deeply despise everyone.

A few people started to take their own seats, just as you and Konz found seats in the back row, away from the prying eyes and whispers. You cast a brief glance at Konz, noticing his tensed shoulders, head that was facing the floor, and hands that were gripping shockingly tightly on his knees. He seemed like he was on the verge of breaking down, and you couldn't blame him. Max had been his friend too. Besides that, a brother even if you squint your eyes hard enough to see. You merely browsed into nothingness, showing little concern for anyone and anything, just as Konz struggled to calm himself down. You were an extremely frightened truck, yet you didn't give a damn about things that didn't require it.

The principal's words were like a balm, soothing the raw emotions of those gathered. "Let us remember Max not for the tragedy of his passing," he said. "Let us honor his memory by living with the same kindness, passion, and dedication that he exemplified." The old man took out a handkerchief from his pockets to wipe-away his nonexistent tear. "Let us remember Max not for the tragedy of his passing, but for the joy he brought into our lives. Let us honor his memory by striving to embody the same kindness, determination, and zest for life that he exemplified."

The principal's words echoed through the hall and from outside, each sentence a tribute to Max's memory. You found yourself nodding along, feeling guilty as you remembered the times you had spent with Max—studying late into the night, laughing over inside jokes, and dreaming of the future together.

"And now," the principal concluded, "let us take a moment of silence to reflect on the impact Max had on each of us, and to offer our thoughts and prayers to his family during this difficult time." The hall fell silent, the only sound present were the heavy breathings and the occasional sniffle from someone in the audience. You closed your eyes, bowing your head in quiet, sending a silent prayer.

"Dear Father, the strongest of all. We are all hereby to pass down a message to our beloved friend, Max, and in wish that he and his soul is in peace above there with you and everything that is holy and true." You couldn't lie, the Principal was great with words.

Suddenly, the principal's tone took an unexpected turn.

"And let us not forget," he said, his voice taking on an edge, "it was all [Name]'s fault."

The shock hit you like a physical punch in the head, making the room spin around you. Gasps and murmurs erupted from the assembled crowd, and you struggled to process what you were hearing. "What?" you managed to whisper, your voice trembling but almost lacked words over the rush of blood in your ears.

"[Name] killed him," the principal continued, his voice now harsh and condemning. "May you punish them as they face their suffering."

Time seemed to slow down as the dern of his words sank into you, as if it were going for a swim then drowning from the inability to move in water. The faces around you contorted with judgment and scorn, their eyes boring into you with hatred. Fear and disbelief gripped your heart, twisting it with anguish and denial. "No," you protested, your voice trembling. "No, that's not true." The room blurred, and your head spun like a never ending cycle.

But the murmurs in the crowd grew louder, drowning out your plea. Panic surged within you as the accusation bore down. You felt as though you were drowning, rusted, unlockable chains placed everywhere on you. The air felt thick and cold, as if it were trying to freeze you to death.

"This isn't real," you murmured, your breaths heavy and uneven. "The principal would never say something like that. It's not true" progressively opening your eyes, you blinked away the tears that were starting to well up. The slanderous border that marked the principal's voice had vanished seconds ago. Now his comments were comforting and secure, paying tribute to Max's memory the way he originally intended.

Oh. It was just a hallucination. The realization dawned on you like a sudden break in a storm and the sun arising from its slumber. None of it had been real. A wave of relief washed over you as you blinked away the vivid, haunting images—the accusing stares, the damning words of the principal. It was all just a hallucination, a creation of your own mind. Slowly, you became aware of your surroundings again. Taking a deep breath, you steadied yourself, pushing aside the tendrils of fear that still wandered around in your mind. It wasn't real. Max's passing wasn't your fault.

Everyone's attention was on the speaker, their eyes and ears tuned to the principal's words. You, however, found it difficult to concentrate. Your eyes roamed the rows of students and teachers assembled in the hall. Faces melded together with no care. Yet, among the crowd, one figure stood out—someone who seemed oddly out of place. Silence laughed at you, but laughing along it wasn't a good moment to do so. They blocked each and every voice and face that came your way, leaving a broken brick to peek at the person you've found peculiar. You wanted to escape from the hypnotizing sight, you couldn't exactly tell what this man looks like as blur brushed in your eyes like a sweeping mop. Your heartbeat quickened as you struggled to make sense of the person's presence.

All you could tell was that the man was clothed in a dark hoodie, its hood drawn up to cover his head. His face was completely hidden by the way the cloth seemed to soak up the light.. Despite the dimness, a few details stood out—the fabric was worn and faded. The hem of the hoodie was frayed, and a small tear near the left cuff caught your eye. You strained to catch a glimpse of his face, but it remained elusive.

Tap, tap, tap

The sound seems louder now, each tap of your finger like a drumbeat. The figure was moving, about to leave. Instinctively, you started to rise from your seat, ready to follow, but then a firm grip closed around your wrist. "Come, they're all giving their condolences by writing on his locker." 

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