I am Violie Herz, an average fifteen year old who had gotten into Winterschore High School, a pretty unusual name for a school. Do you think so too? Well, I think I do. It's still very pretty.
Coming back to my story, I am very pretty, pretty average.
Do you think so too? That's very delightful.
Soon, you'll be meeting my history. A very boring history. Oh you still wanna read it? Suit yourself, be my guest.
I was to be in 5th grade, in 2018, mid-April when by my chance I had gotten into the above-mentioned well-reputed school. Now before I rant off about its greatness and prestige, its privileged working-class students and its uniqueness, I might as well inform you about a tragedy that took place at the aforementioned school.
There is a myth that on the fourth floor, if you stand in front of the glass mirror which sometimes appears in front of the library, parallel to the girl's washroom, you might be able to situate yourself in the mirror world.
You might be able to be granted a wish.
Now, as I said, there's no such thing.
There never was a mirror world.
What you are or should I say were living in was a mirror world.
More precisely, a gift from it.
YOU ARE READING
The girl who disappeared
General FictionWho goes there...? Wait, what was I talking about?
