The Ghost's Diary 👻 ✓

49. M. M

My left hand finds its way to the back of my neck, as I try to remember anyone with those initials. Several images pass through my eyes but all are blurry and unfocused.

M.M... Come on, Lindsey... Think...

My left hand escapes from its previous position to rubbing my forehead.

The wristwatch of mine comes into view and it tells me that it's time to go, otherwise I'm going to be late for school.

I leave the board loose and the envelop still straying there, with the letter still in my hand. My feet pound towards my room.

I keep thinking of those initials, about whose could they be. Only a certain witch comes into my mind as I try to find my school bag.

I grimace at that possibility.

My mind keeps teleporting back to those initials, even as I trek towards the Main Entrance. I glide past a specific room, and my feet stop on their own.

My eyes wander throughout the open room, before I decide to enter it.

It's exactly the same since I have last left it: a bed with no folds, a wardrobe as tall as London Tower and a curved full-length mirror.

I open the drawer of the dressing table to  view a full ensemble of watches of almost every brand.

Dylan was always a watch fan...

I put the letter into the drawer, and slide it back to its place.

"Lindsey, look here, mate." Allison snaps her fingers in front of me.

I shake my head in swift sideway nods, only resulting in my blurring out my vision a bit. The foggy settings come back to clarity, as Allison pops her head from the side.

"Are you all right?" she asks.

Thoughts of Dylan's letter kept charging in throughout the day. I tried to push them away, but they keep coming back.

I don't even remember how I got into the Chemistry laboratory right now. The last time we were here was when I kept calling Allison labby in my head and when she first introduced me to Ethan.

Speaking of Ethan...

I open my mouth in answer to Allison looking at me with a tilted head, but Mr Henley bangs his hands on his table.

All of us students adjust ourselves against the wooden stools and marbles table slabs.

The chemicals and burners are already set out in front of us.

Mr Henley writes the formula for the compound we have to make on the whiteboard behind him. The silver ring in his hand refracts light from the open window.

I lower my voice and arch my back a bit,
"Where's Ethan? I haven't seen him since lunch."

Allison catches my gesture and scratches her upper lip to avoid any unwanted glances.
"I don't know. Probably attending his classes."