Distant Memories

When evening self-study began, the atmosphere in Class 4 was even stranger than usual.

Although the meeting ended on bad terms, the words had already been spoken, and the students of Class 4 had lost their target for venting. It was as if, in an instant, they returned to a state of disorientation, with anxiety, fear, and all sorts of dark and negative emotions enveloping them along with the nightmare shadow of evening self-study.

In stark contrast, the transfer students all looked relaxed, while the class monitor with the red armband remained seated on the podium, silently writing his homework, as if nothing that had happened that day had affected him.

--No, it still has some impact.

Normally, he only needs to occasionally look up and glance at the discipline, because the class is always quiet.

But today, as he was writing, he felt a faint, restless noise in his ear—either someone was dragging a chair, or a pen was falling to the ground.

It started raining again outside the window. Raindrops pattered against the classroom windowpane, making one's heart pound erratically with the chaotic raindrops. The pattering sound confused all senses in the shadows. Turning a page, the class monitor seemed to sense a strange gaze and turned his head expressionlessly.

"Boom..."

Lightning flashed across the sky in that instant, followed immediately by a deep, rumbling rumble of thunder.

In the instant the sky was illuminated by lightning, the squad leader saw a dark figure perched on the window, like a giant gecko.

"Bang!"

The classroom lights suddenly shattered, sending shards of glass flying and plunging the entire square space into darkness.

No one screamed. The students, experienced as ever, covered their mouths, suppressing their instincts, trembling in the pitch-black darkness. They knew something had come in; strange murmurs echoed in their ears, and a chilling cold filled the air.

Who's so unlucky?

Who is going to die?

It's so dark, how am I supposed to do my homework after the ghost leaves...?

Another bolt of lightning flashed, illuminating the sky as if it had been lit up by a lamp. This time, everyone looked out the window and saw the giant, gecko-like humanoid shadow.

In the class monitor's hazy memory, a thought surfaced—the person outside the window was about to jump.

He seemed to have seen this scene before: a familiar figure clinging to the railing outside the window, then suddenly letting go, falling downwards, with only screams echoing as the person departed.

But no, the enormous, gecko-like shadow didn't let go and disappear; instead, it slowly merged into the glass and then emerged from it again.

It's coming in.

They came in from outside.

The students stared wide-eyed as the shadows stretched and gnawed at the air, slowly creeping towards one direction.

The student by the window bent over, curled up into a ball, covered his mouth and ears, and pretended to be an ostrich.

They muttered to themselves: They're not looking for me, they're not looking for me...

I kept telling myself: Someone will die, but not me... not me... who pushed them...

In their fear, distant memories seemed to resurface unexpectedly that night. The students all seemed to recognize the figure instinctively. Finally, all their prayers boiled down to one sentence: I didn't push him down.

Rebecca lay face down on the table, her eyes closed, her eyelashes trembling, biting her lip tightly. She swallowed the blood from her ruptured lip membrane, a metallic sweetness lingering in her throat.

How so?

How could she have such memories?

She cleared herself of the slander today, didn't she? She pulled back from the brink, things hadn't gotten to the worst point yet, and she thought there was still room for redemption, but...

How could she have remembered Oliver gripping the railing, his eyes brimming with near despair after a long silence?

And why was the vice class monitor standing opposite Oliver with a mocking expression?

Oliver's crush leaned against the side of the podium, watching the scene unfold like a theatrical performance.

She heard Jack's voice behind her, very loudly. "Hey, hey, are you jumping or not? If you're too scared to jump, don't pretend you're going to die. Who are you threatening?"

Then she heard herself say, "It's too dangerous there. Let's come down first. Don't gamble with your life, and don't threaten others with your life. If you accidentally let go, you might really fall."

Rebecca stared blankly at these sudden memories, which she could sense came from a long time ago.

So long ago, she had forgotten that after she finished speaking, Oliver gave her a numb and slow glance, as if mocking her for being a hypocrite.

And they forgot that the hostile looks and words continued until Oliver let go, and then it stopped abruptly, like a chicken being pulled by the neck.

They all thought that the cowardly Oliver, who dared not talk back, had finally lost his temper and was trying to threaten them with jumping off the building—to apologize? Or to pity him?

Only at this moment did their minds, clouded by the violence, regain a sliver of clarity, and they suddenly realized that people really could be driven to their deaths.

Oliver fell.

Just moments before he fell, the vice-monitor was still mocking him, Jack was still provoking him, and the girl he liked was still happily watching the show—with the others.

They were all murderers; they committed atrocities.

So this is how things turned out? Rebecca, curled up in her seat, wondered absently.

Those distant memories are the real ones. In the flow of time, a very long time passed, until the past became blurred, and a new Oliver quietly appeared in the class.

Oliver was just as cowardly as before, but his eyes no longer held any longing for friends; only gloom, obscurity, and a deep sense of foreboding remained.

He died, and then he came back.

Isn't this actually a cycle of reincarnation? In this cycle, they chose the same path once again, without any remorse for their immoral actions, simply repeating the same foolish and arrogant mistakes.

Rebecca couldn't really understand how long she had been in this class. This memory was completely different from her current school. It was as if she was constantly repeating the same short period of time, instead of having a resentful past and a future she was fighting for, as she thought.

The schools I remember didn't have such twisted teachers, twisted rules, or twisted ghosts; the only twisted ones were themselves, the perpetrators of the violence.

"Only you."

In a daze, Rebecca seemed to hear Oliver's voice, drifting and fading away.

"The only person I can forgive is you."

She opened her eyes, but could only see darkness and a strong, persistent shadow. Evening self-study was still in progress, and everything she remembered was like a bubble, on the verge of disappearing.

"Ah--!!"

Finally, after a long and agonizing silence, a scream brought it all to an end.

The cold receded, the murmurs disappeared, leaving only the lingering smell of blood.

The broken light bulb was also an illusion; the intact bulb flickered twice and then lit up again.

Rebecca looked over immediately and found the classroom empty.

On those empty seats, only a monotonous crimson color remained, flowing along the curves of the seats.

"This is... terrifying!" Yu Xing saw that only Rebecca and three students wearing red armbands remained, along with their class of outsiders. She turned to the culprit, "Oliver, what did you do?"

Oliver lowered his head and let out a soft chuckle.

"It wasn't me, it was Nightmare's own choice."

"It has already gotten the truth of this round, so it doesn't want to play anymore."

"But they're still here. These people will show up tomorrow morning, and they'll start all over again."