Harper stepped out of the building that morning, the sun hitting her face like a sharp reminder that life was moving on without her. The old stone walls of Bellridge Academy looked the same as ever—the ivy crawling up the sides, the old clock tower ticking steadily. But everything felt... wrong.
She had to get to class. That was the one thing she knew for sure. Even if no one remembered her, even if the school's records denied her existence, Harper had to prove she belonged.
Walking through the crowded hallways, she felt invisible—like a ghost passing through a world that no longer recognized her. She glanced at groups of students chatting and laughing, but every pair of eyes seemed to slide right past her.
At her locker, she hesitated before opening it. Inside, she found a few worn notebooks with her handwriting. Proof that she had been here before. But when a tall girl nearby glanced over and frowned, Harper realized something.
"Hey," Harper said, trying to sound casual, "do you know me? I'm Harper Quinn."
The girl blinked, confused. "No, I don't think so. Are you new here?"
Harper's heart sank. "New? No, I've been here before. Room 13A—do you know it?"
The girl shook her head. "There's no Room 13A. The highest room number is 12B."
Harper swallowed hard. So, everyone was pretending she didn't exist. Like she was some kind of mistake.
She walked to her first class, English Literature, clutching her notebooks tightly. The teacher, Mr. Collins, looked up as she entered. "You must be the new student. Take a seat," he said kindly but without much recognition.
Harper sat down beside an empty desk, glancing around. Everyone stared at her, whispering quietly, but no one spoke to her. It was like she had suddenly become the newest kid at school—except it felt like no one wanted her there.
During the lesson, Harper tried to answer a question. "What do you think the author meant by this passage?"
A girl behind her shook her head and whispered loudly enough for others to hear, "She's crazy."
Harper's cheeks flushed with a mix of anger and hurt. Was she losing her mind? Had she really been gone so long that everyone just erased her?
After class, Harper wandered the halls again, searching for Room 13A. The numbers climbed—11A, 12B—but then the hall just ended. The wall was bare, no door, no sign.
A voice whispered again—soft, almost sad. "Find me."
Harper's breath caught. Was it the girl with the red ribbon? Was she still trapped somewhere in this school's secrets?
She pulled out her notebook, flipping to a page full of scribbled notes and strange symbols she didn't remember writing. They looked like a map—an outline of the school with a hidden path marked in red.
Determined, Harper tucked the notebook under her arm and headed toward the library. Maybe there, buried in old records or dusty books, she could find the truth.
As she walked, the students' eyes followed her, wary and confused, as if they were afraid she might disappear at any moment.
Harper was beginning to realize that Room 13A was more than just a place—it was a mystery that had swallowed her whole.
And now, she had to find a way to get herself back..