VESTIGE

Chapter 1 '...why?'

She was wearing a black top casually tucked over a white, formal blouse. Why casually? Because she was in a hurry. Lately, she had to do everything in a hurry. Although that wasn't such a bad thing... After all, you can do so many things in a day...

Black trousers, scrubbing the dirty streets, revealed her recently white, brand-name sneakers. Never mind. With a quick movement, she adjusted her falling jacket and slung the black bag over her shoulder. She passed houses, trees, people. PEOPLE. She didn't notice the neighbors, didn't say hello. Not good: they'd gossip. But what good is it if they were always doing it anyway? She looked back and regretted not being able to stop and exchange a few words. It was an elderly lady, one of the few people who treated her completely normally, even friendly. One of the few people who were normal, in her opinion. She sat on a bench, tightly wrapped in an old-fashioned scarf, pretending to be intently reading a crumpled newspaper. The sadness in her eyes touched her, but she continued walking quickly, thinking about many different things, trying to avoid the puddles.

The pain. Piercing, though not the worst kind, yet intense, prevented her from walking so quickly. She didn't know why, but it engulfed her entire body, not her stomach or head. Why do others only hurt in certain parts of their bodies? It seemed to encompass every muscle, spreading evenly. It wasn't a colic; she didn't feel the sting. Furious with herself, she slowed down. She couldn't be late, not this time. She hated the humiliation of everyone staring at her. She had to walk quickly. She felt the raindrops. 'A beautiful day,' she thought, and smiled solemnly to herself. Despite everything, she had to walk faster. It could be overcome—someone had told her so once.

Large drops of water falling on her face brought momentary relief. "Get a grip! You're not going to fall apart now!" she growled silently. But that wasn't the point. It wasn't physical weakness; she didn't want to go there. She was certainly comforted by the thought that she would be free for two months, at least from this, but she was terrified that this time she wouldn't go unnoticed.

She saw a building emerging from behind the trees, that cursed building where all those things had happened...

The rain was falling harder and harder; she stood in front of the entrance, wondering if she really wanted to do this...

Chapter 2 "It was wonderful."

When she finally gathered her courage and climbed the gray, weathered stairs leading to the main hall, she saw a group of about a dozen people; most likely from third grade. She didn't know them like her peers, although some had already grown prejudiced against her, and some had simply had a few "unpleasant experiences" with her. It might seem strange, but for her, such situations and behavior were natural. She reacted with surprise to pleasant attitudes and politeness. However, when you're treated so condescendingly from a young age, you eventually get used to it. She had always been considered strange. When she was little, they said she lived in her own fairytale world, full of fairy-tale creatures. It was almost endearing; they said she had "the imagination of a child." Some, convinced that it was the influence of television that was creating fictitious images in her then-young mind, accused her parents of lacking proper care.

So they banned her from watching television.

Walking down the corridor and looking around, she ignored the subtle, yet noticeable, gazes of many people directed at her. Some, on the contrary, exchanged inane remarks aloud and commented on her every move. When she reached the ceremony hall (it was one of many enormous rooms in the building), she quickly pulled the door, but it remained closed. She tried to tug harder, but it was no use. She heard only quiet laughter behind her.

She turned helplessly and, not knowing what to do, stood in the middle of the corridor, returning a Hamish look to anyone who gave her one. She decided to lighten her mood this way, but, unsurprisingly, it didn't help. Finally, waiting for a teacher, or at least any adult, she found herself standing against a wall. She felt safer in the presence of an adult. Safety—for her, such a fragile word. You can't trust anyone. She almost forgot the pain, which had become imperceptible until now, but now it intensified again. This time it was even stronger, and she cursed herself silently, unable to help but wince and cringe. This only further attracted everyone's attention. A tear rolled down her cheek, and more seemed to follow; so she decided to sit down. She felt a cold chill on her shoulder; she was probably burning hot: every object at room temperature felt very cold to her. She saw the girl touching her arm. She pulled away; she didn't like it when anyone did that: it was unpleasant. Especially not a stranger. The thought struck her as ridiculous, considering that everyone was a stranger to her. She had no one close, at least not like normal people.

The girl looked at her and clearly wasn't bothered by the cold response.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked with surprise and a touch of disgust, which was, however, overshadowed by sympathy.

"Oh, it'll pass soon." She tried to smile, wondering how she could subtly convey that she wanted to be alone without ruining this suspiciously pleasant relationship.

Nothing passed. The pain intensified, and she began to shiver, thankfully invisible at first. Or so she thought.

"It doesn't look like it's going to pass anytime soon..." the girl sighed and sat down next to her.

"Why are they staring?" she asked with genuine surprise, pointing to another group of people staring at her. "So there's no way to hide it after all." "Because

they have nothing to do." She tried not to sound too dry.

"And I'm probably terribly pale..."

And why is she lying like that? She knows perfectly well that her new acquaintance will find out the real reason sooner or later, unless she already does and is now mocking her. There's no point in trying and lying. But she doesn't want to feel ashamed; she wants to feel like an average girl, at least for a moment. Although, upon a general inspection (it couldn't be accurate, looking over her arm that obscured half her face), she didn't look like a local. Her

sharp features and dark complexion were completely at odds with the appearance of the average resident of this country. Her gaze was steady, though she glanced around the school and didn't speak to anyone. No one but herself. She approached HER. Was this some kind of distinction? She could still feel distinguished, but only in a negative way.

It was certainly because of the pain, which had caused the ridiculous-looking poses and tremors.

"Are you feeling that bad?" Now she could see fear in her eyes.

Did she look that bad?

She was perfectly aware that the tremors and her face partially hidden in her hands didn't look good, and on top of that, she was sweating from the temperature, but what could she do?

She knew it would pass, and clearly the girl wouldn't be convinced.

"I do sometimes—

but it's harmless."

Well, maybe it doesn't look like it, but believe me, it will pass.

She breathed a sigh of relief as the fear partially vanished from the girl's eyes.

She managed to extricate herself.

"I feel sorry for you. I'm new at this school, and it's a terrible feeling, but compared to you...

She feels sorry for her!!! She couldn't believe it. She felt a twinge. Small and not unpleasant at all. And this time, not all over her body, in one place, around her heart. Did she suspect something? She said it was awful that she was new, that everyone was a bit critical of her, let alone her...? So she knew? That they treated her differently...

No, that was impossible. She was definitely referring to the feeling. The feeling of such pain was unpleasant, more unpleasant than her fear. Why did it seem that way to her? She would never have thought someone could be so close to her. But on the other hand, she knew she certainly didn't know, much less be like that.

At that moment, a boy approached them. Long hair tied in a ponytail had always seemed awful to her, especially the somewhat skater-style. But she wasn't prejudiced. She never was, because she knew how much it hurt. She knew that from experience.

He crouched down next to them and sent a worried look her way. She interpreted it as surprise at her health. He leaned over the girl and whispered a few words. They must have known each other very well. She scowled at him and turned to her.

"He's my brother. He's new too, but he's strangely calm."

This time she smiled.

Strange. She studied the siblings, but couldn't find even the slightest resemblance.

"Oh, I forgot!

I'm Sara, and this is—Ethan."

She pointed to the boy, who also gave her a warm, if barely visible, smile and extended his hand.

"Hey..."

she replied quietly, probably unaware that they hadn't heard her. She smiled faintly and offered her hand to the boy. A strong, friendly hug...

They were looking at her intently, and though she didn't know why, she ignored it. She only looked into the boy's eyes to see what he was like...but she couldn't see anything. She felt even hotter (if that was even possible) and confused. She didn't know what he was thinking. Suddenly, a pressure. This time, her stomach. A terrible pain. And... oh no!! She felt sick. She couldn't embarrass herself like this! Newly met people, and already so ashamed...

Just a moment ago, she had felt happy. She wanted this moment to last. Even though she didn't know them, she felt calm, safe.

But now it was ending.

Soon their kindness would turn to disgust.

She had to do something!!

Remember some happy moments...no, that's too hard.

She felt warmth. Not the kind that burns her in a fever, a pleasant warmth. As if someone were embracing her. She snuggled into that invisible arm. And only darkness.

Chapter 3 'Relief'

Feeling the sun's rays on her face, she opened her eyes curiously, searching for their source. She realized she was lying there and wasn't alone at all. Several people stood around her; she couldn't see their faces, or perhaps didn't want to see them at all. What were they doing here? She didn't want to be the center of attention! She tried to get up, but a hand pressed her firmly against the bed, which she realized was a couch. The room was a small, dingy nurse's office. She had always wondered why such a huge building with truly enormous rooms had such a small and cramped room. She concluded that it had once been a spacious storage room. But why was it now used as a doctor's office? Her thoughts were so consumed that she barely heard the gruff voice:

"Don't get up. You're terribly pale and need to lie down for a while. Have you eaten anything today?" It's the nurse. She stared at her with a piercing gaze. Her gray-blonde hair, meticulously tied into a ponytail and secured with a multitude of pins, rather aged her. The oversized blouse peeking out from under her scrubs and the tapered trousers also looked rather odd. For a moment, she thought she understood perfectly well why this woman had been placed in this particular spot.

"Breakfast. Cereal with milk," she snapped, trying to maintain her equally pleasant tone. She wouldn't say anything more. She didn't want to engage in a discussion with this woman. She felt her hatred, though perhaps that was too strong a word. A huge prejudice. And maybe a little fear. Yes, definitely the latter. But she bravely didn't show it. A cold and unpleasant woman.

"You said you were better and then you fainted, you know?"

This time, the voice was even warm. Because this time, it belonged to Sara. Yes, she remembered, her name is Sara. When someone is so kind, you can't remain indifferent. "

Thanks for helping me. Did it start in the hall already?"

She felt ashamed of her weakness and quickly changed the subject, which already seemed important to her. She knew she had to be at the ceremony, or else...

They'd expel her. Absolutely. Her ability to attend was already hanging by a thread, but if she didn't show up, they simply wouldn't accept her next year. And no wonder, after what happened... After what they know about her...

"It's even over. Mrs. Brawley brought your report card and didn't look happy, but the nurse excused you.

Her throat tightened. First of all: she didn't go there! They'd expel her. She hated this place, but she was forced and obligated to attend, and the thought of leaving it didn't bring any relief. However, she had a reason for her absence: she fainted. It was something of an excuse, though certainly not to them. It certainly didn't surprise anyone. It was an excuse on purpose, but still. She looked around. The small, yet perfectly light-permeable white window blinded her with its light, pleasantly warming her. That was the only thing in this small room that kept her from getting up and leaving. And, of course, new friends... The rain had stopped.

"She told someone to walk you home. "

Sara smiled at her.

"You'll get up soon, and we'll go. Do you live far away?"

The boy standing next to her picked up my bag, slung it over his shoulder, which looked ridiculous, and then they stood ready to go.

Ethan, that's his name. Slowly, everything was coming back. "These are the nice people. They'll come with me to my house, get to know me, stop liking me, stop respecting me like they do now. Is my life one big fear of rejection?"

She sat down on the hard couch and decided to sit for a while longer, as she was feeling dizzy.

"How was the room?" she asked.

She had calmed down and concluded that this event was fortunate. She wasn't there, in that awful place, the center of attention under the disdainful gaze of the teachers.

"We weren't there. We stayed with you," Ethan replied this time. A look of relief was also etched on his face. He clearly didn't enjoy such celebrations either. Or maybe he'd disliked this place from the very beginning. Just like her... They hadn't abandoned her. They cared for her and worried. Like friends. Well, it was a shame this feeling was only temporary. She wouldn't be able to call them that for long. Sooner or later, they would surely drift away from her. Gray thoughts filled her tired mind; she didn't want that.

"I didn't introduce myself.

Keira Elsey.

" She blushed slightly when she saw everyone staring at her intently.

"Your medical records aren't here," the nurse hissed after a moment of intense searching in the enormous gray closet.

"I know, because they kicked her out." She gripped the couch mattress tightly.

The woman looked at her with disbelief mixed with anger and quickly left the office.

"Uh, Keira, don't worry about her..."

She wasn't worried. Not at all. It only made her even more distraught. She knew why they'd removed her chart. Her constant visits to the nurse's office had infuriated the headmistress, who didn't want to hear about these 'nasty diseases', but was actually afraid they'd accuse her of keeping a sick child at school who could infect others. She didn't even want to go. She was led or carried when she fainted. Because how could this woman, tired of life and clearly disgusted with her profession, working as a nurse in this hellish school, help her?

If only it were just an illness...

But now she has two months off. Two months, every day without the sight of those old, damned walls of that enormous building, that hated place of persecution, filled with hatred. She

had to savor them.

"Are you here to see the results?" She meant it was the end of the year, and she was surprised that these two were calling themselves 'newcomers' when they didn't even know if they'd gotten in. She hoped they'd understand without further explanation.

"The principal invited us. Apparently, we're already accepted."

Keira looked at them in disbelief. This school was the best she'd ever heard of (in terms of quality, of course), and they'd just gotten in! She felt more deeply hidden admiration than envy.

"It's probably because of a few competitions," Ethan forestalled her question

. "Are you feeling better now?" They surprised her again with that question, as with every kind and warm sentence they addressed to her.

"A lot." She smiled. "We can go." She stood up carefully, checking if she was losing her balance.

She wanted to leave this awful room as quickly as possible. This building.

Chapter 4.

She stepped outside, the air hitting her with its sharpness yet pleasantly refreshing. She stood, one foot resting on a metal bench to steady herself, took a deep breath, and looked up at the sky. She loved doing this: imagining the magic of the skylands, the lightness of the clouds, envying the life of the birds. Two nearby companions, whom she hadn't paid the slightest attention to at the moment, stood a bit surprised, watching her, but without the slightest feeling of disgust or fear. They looked at her like good friends curious about their friend's new behavior. Realizing she wasn't alone, Keira blushed slightly and approached them.

"You know, you look much better already," Sara commented. She didn't know why, but she preferred Ethan to say it. But she was still grateful; they didn't even know how much. Sara was comforting her. She might look better, but only a little—she's still feeling miserable.

They walked in silence for a while. Awkward, perhaps, but certainly very pleasant for her. 'It's sometimes better than talking,' she thought. 'Then you feel like you can be so happy even in silence.'

However, someone had to break the silence.

"My parents will probably be worried about that incident at school." Sara's statement was clearly an introduction to a topic that needed an introduction. And she probably knew what she'd ask next.

"Probably. Although it's not the first time." Lying isn't always wrong. In this case, it was simply the answer they wanted to hear. At least the first part. Her parents don't care much about her. They do give her some medication and take her to the doctor regularly, but they never even tried to comfort her or understand her. Raised without much love, she justifies her sometimes strange behavior by saying she doesn't have parents. Because for her, a parent is someone who understands and helps in every situation, not just in a critical situation. She doesn't have them.

Unable to accept that things had once been different, she walked, staring at the ground, torn by internal emotions.

"What exactly are you sick with?" How had she known they'd ask? Irony. Why did anyone need this? She couldn't answer. She hadn't expected this from them. "What do you think? That there are people like you?" Blaming herself for her own naivety haunted her. "They don't

know what's wrong with me yet. They can only suspect it's intestinal cancer." She uttered the last two words dispassionately. How many times should she repeat this?

Until she finds someone who doesn't care what or why she's sick, who will accept her as she is, without question?

It's pure fiction. She won't find such a person.

'I'm sick.' It would be best to write it on her forehead and, before she could say anything, point to the spot.

Her thoughts grew increasingly nonsensical, her anger rising. However, as these thoughts passed through her mind with astonishing speed, she managed to observe the two of them's reactions to the news that she had cancer. Ethan's eyes narrowed, as if squeezed by the weight of the suffering the news had caused. You could read so much in those eyes...

Sara looked at him knowingly. She made a face, grimaced, or perhaps moved her lips, which she couldn't see because she was turning away from her.

This time, the silence was awkward for everyone. Fortunately, they were already close to her house. She didn't even consider what might happen next. They would meet her parents, so different in their behavior. They would be alienated and frightened by it. She couldn't bear the thought of letting them in. Yes, she had intended to invite them in, but out of politeness (after all, she'd only known them for a few hours) they should decline.

The house was only a few dozen steps away. It was a solid, two-story building with a small garden at the entrance, enclosed by a dark green chain-link fence, with an ornate gate in the center. The fence looked rather odd, but it had begun to grow ivy, which gave it a charming feel. The house was quite old, though in good condition.

They stood before the gate, but when Keira invited them in, she received a surprising answer. They agreed. She hadn't expected this.

Since she had no choice, she couldn't suddenly change her mind, she opened the gate and stood before the door. Perhaps she could pretend she couldn't find the key? It was an old and tried trick, but it wouldn't work in this case. They were supposed to escort her home, and if she couldn't get in, what would they do? There were many ways out she didn't even want to think about. So she took a bunch of large silver keys from her jacket pocket and inserted them into the lock. Outside, she could hear birdsong, mingled with the noise of cars, which was a welcome relief. She wanted to open the door as quietly as possible and enter as quietly as possible, to avoid contact with her parents. That would be wonderful. The sound of the key turning in the lock was almost inaudible, so she entered with a faint smile. The room was lit by multiple beams of light filtering through the old windows. She glanced at the door leading to the hallway (they were now on the porch), glazed with colorful stained glass, but figures could still be seen. And her fears were realized. She saw a shadow. A large shadow of a man walking toward the door. She panicked slightly. What would she say to him? How would they react?

Thoughts crowded her mind, demanding answers...