Hidden Secrets [Sally Face x Reader]

#1 "Who Was That?"

(A/N) I'm not happy about how the first half of this chapter turned out. So bear with me for a bit, mkay? (A/N)

I sighed as I stepped into the run down room, letting myself relax. I let backpack slide off my shoulders onto the floor, next to the door. Taking my phone out of my pocket (or purse, I guess).

I quickly checked wattpad, clicking on my favorite story, stomping around the dark apartment as I read. (Does anyone else do that?) I laughed and made comments here and there until I heard a knock at the door.

Quickly, I focused on a hole in the wall. I slid into the hole, my hands being the last to enter. I grabbed a piece of wood that was bigger than the hole, pressing it against it to make it so no one could enter. I held my breath, listening closely to the sound of steps against the floor.

Sally's P.O.V

I was on the 5th floor. I've been up here before, but I'd only been able to get inside a couple of the rooms. I was about to check to make sure I'd found everything that could be found in them until I heard noises coming from a room that was locked before.

I knocked on the door, trying to make sure I wouldn't be invading anyone's privacy. The noise immediately stopped. Was it all in my imagination? I wondered as I turned the knob.

I froze, confused. The door was unlocked. I'd checked every door on this floor, and I'm pretty sure this door was locked. I took a deep breath as I pushed the door open. As soon as I opened the door I noticed a pair of hands slipping into a hole in the wall. I jumped at the sight, rushing over to the hole I saw it was boarded up. Was it my imagination? I thought before heading back towards the door.

A (F/C) backpack that'd been partially pressed against the door fell over. I bent down next to it, digging through the contents. A few (Favorite pattern) folders and notebooks filled the bag. None of them really had any indication of who it belonged to or where it came from so I dug deeper into the bag. I blushed as I came I found some. . . girl necessities laying in the bottom of the bag. (Stuff like extra underwear and pads) So the owner is female. Or possibly trans? I thought. I refused to touch the items, trying to be at least a tiny bit respectful of the owner's privacy. I flipped through the folders, trying to see if I missed anything.

At the back of the backpack was a little journal I missed. I pulled the small journal, a peice of duck tape on the front reading "(Y/N)'s Diary" my eyes widened. "I promise I will not read anymore than I need to." I said out loud with one hand placed over my heart and the other raised in the air.

I flipped through the pages before finding the most recent entry.

September 12th, 2017

Dear Diary,

High school freshmen year. Yeah. I've been here a while. Thought I'd finally make a friend, but guess what? I still hate him, him, her, him, and ESPECIALLY her! And I think everyone hates me as much as I hate them. Good, we're all on the same page.-

I stopped reading there, knowing all I thing I needed to know. Her/His name's (Y/N), she/he's around my age, she/he's not popular at school and she/he wrote this today. I at least I don't have to worry about going through a dead person's stuff. Probably.

I placed the diary back and pushed the bag against the wall next to tge door, checking the door again beforing sighing and leaving.

Your P.O.V

I sighed as I heard the door close. I had my back pressed against a wall in the hidden room, my legs pressed against the wood keeping the hole hidden. Flipping a swith on the wall near the hole, the fairy lights I set up turned on, bringing light to the room.

Each wall of the room wore colorful graffiti-done by yours truly- the wall holding the "door" to the outside world was full of quotes and colorful symbols. The wall you were pressed against was painted to look like there was a gaint hole in it, behind it, your dream world. The wall across from that one held your name/favorite word/username on it in graffiti. The last wall held tons of pointless doodles, and in the middle of it a painted door. I'll trick someone into thinking this is an actual door someday. You thought as you glared at it.

The room was pretty empty, save for a couple bean bag chairs in the middle of the room, a laptop laying on top of one, a scetch book, pencils, sharpener, and colored penxils on the other. Magazines and newspapers were sprawled across the floor, saving the old, gross floor from paint. In the corner of the room were a bunch of paints and different sizes of paint brushes.

You stood up and walked over to the bean bags. The peice of wood fell from it's spot against the wall after you moved, making a small thud as it collided with the ground.

You sat down, trying to focus on the new story you'd found. Your mind kept coming back to who ever was in that room. Your heart was still racing from almost geting caught up here. People already think I'm weird enough without knowing I sneak into an empty, run down apartment.

You kept wondering one thing though. "Who was that?"

Sally's P.O.V

I kept thinking back to those hands I saw. I can't help but think it wasn't my imagination. I kept trying to push the question out of my mind but it kept coming back. "Who was that?"