After a long time, I opened a window to my past and went back to these old streets. In the middle of the night, what a sensible decision is debatable, I felt like I had to do it. As I was walking along the road, a large old building caught my eye. I got a little closer to remember what it was.
It turned out that the huge, impressive building I saw while walking through the pitch blackness of the damp, cold night was a school. Its lights illuminated every nook and cranny, ridiculing the sombre, silent cloak of the night like a persistent mustard stain on funeral attire. The street was still dark, but it felt brighter in my inner world. Once a vibrant hub of academic activity, the abandoned school now stood in desolate silence. The classrooms scattered with books, rotting desks, and crumpled papers. The empty hallways echoed with the sound of my footsteps as I walked towards the mysterious room. It was rumored to hold secrets of the past – secrets that were whispered about in hushed tones.
As I approached the door, it creaked open by itself. I hesitated for a moment, unsure of entering a room with such an ominous presence. But as I peeked inside, I was drawn inside, as if by an invisible force. The room was dimly lit, with only a few rays of moonlight making their way through the boarded-up windows. And as I looked around, I saw the lifeless body of a young girl lying in a pool of blood. The room suddenly felt colder, the air thick with the smell of death.
Panicking, I ran out of the classroom, trying to escape the scene. But as I reached the next hallway, the doors slammed shut behind me, trapping me inside. Terrified and helpless, I took a deep breath and made my way back to the classroom.
As I approached the door, I saw a shadow pass by outside the window. I held my breath as the door creaked open, revealing a figure standing in the doorway. It was the school principal, his eyes dark and ominous. He walked towards me, his footsteps echoing against the concrete floor. He spoke in a deep, gravelly voice, “You shouldn’t have come here. Now, you must pay the price for your curiosity.”
I stood frozen, unsure of what to do. Suddenly, the principal lunged towards me with a switchblade in his hand. I barely dodged his attack, grabbing a stray metal pipe lying on the ground. The principal laughed menacingly, “You cannot stop me. Nobody can.”
The two of us engaged in a fierce battle, tossing and turning against the classroom walls. I knew that the only way to stop him was to expose his true identity and motives.
With one swift move, I knocked the switchblade out of the principal’s hand. As I pulled off his mask, I saw the face of someone I had known for years: my high school bully. In a fit of rage, he had plotted the murder of the innocent girl, hoping to cover up his tracks. But he had never anticipated someone like me to stand up to him.
As the police arrived, I felt a sense of relief wash over me. I had uncovered one of the school’s darkest secrets, and justice had been served.
The abandoned school may have been a place of desolation and despair, but I had emerged victorious, a hero in my own right.