When Pomona passed the second floor, the corridor was flooded again, and she heard Myrtle crying.
In the dead of night, with everything pitch-black and no one around, suddenly hearing someone cry was frightening enough. What was more, the one crying was a genuine female ghost.
She had not intended to interfere, but she still headed toward Myrtle's bathroom. Myrtle was "sitting" atop the sink, weeping.
"What's wrong, Myrtle?" Pomona asked.
Her voice was not loud, yet in that empty, silent place it sounded deafening, accompanied by waves of echoes. Myrtle was startled and stopped crying at once.
"Is someone bullying you again?" Pomona asked.
"No one invited me," Myrtle said tearfully. "Because I wear glasses."
Pomona understood a little.
"You mean no one invited you to the Celestial Ball because you wear glasses?"
"Who would invite a girl like me, with pimples on her face and ridiculous glasses?" Myrtle said. Then she suddenly shrieked and flew into a toilet.
"I told the headmaster to cancel the Celestial Ball from now on," Pomona said.
There was no reply for quite some time.
"Can you stop crying now?" Pomona asked.
The water on the floor rushed into the toilet at tremendous speed, and before long, the ground was dry again.
Then Myrtle poked her head out of the toilet.
"Were you not invited either?" Myrtle asked.
Pomona wanted to say that she had been invited, though not to the Celestial Ball.
"I didn't suggest canceling the ball because no one invited me," Pomona said.
But Myrtle did not believe her at all. She laughed. "Thank you for making me feel like I'm not alone."
Pomona could not explain. Seeing that Myrtle had stopped crying, she said nothing more and continued on her way back.
Becoming famous young was certainly something to