"Hello? Ryner, are you there? Is everything alright? What happened?" asked Charlotte.
Ryner stooped down and picked up the phone. "Yes, everything's fine. I'll explain the whole situation to you another day, I promise. I'm going to hang up now," said Ryner.
"No, Ryner, wait!!" Charlotte shouted, but Ryner had already hung up.
"The pieces are all coming together now," Ryner murmured. "The corpse of the male that was found in the old section of the school building five years ago belonged to none other than Thomas. However, there's still no proof that he was involved in what happened to Rita. He could have just been a bystander who tried to help her and got killed in the process."
"For now, I won't relay this information to either Rita or Thomas. It's too risky to trust him at this point, not knowing anything about him or what he knows," Ryner said to himself.
"Who was that just now on the phone?" asked Rita.
"It's no one important. No need to worry," Ryner replied, glancing at her.
"Which one of the ghosts are you talking to? Could it be the female ghost?" asked Shimoya.
"Crap… I almost forgot about her. I was careless," Ryner muttered to himself, palming his face.
"So, now that you know I can see and talk to ghosts, what exactly are you going to do with that information?" Ryner asked, looking at Shimoya.
"I don't plan on exposing you. Even if I did, I'd just be ridiculed. No one would believe me—they'd all just say I'm crazy," said Shimoya. "What I really want to know is… can you see it?"
"See who?" asked Ryner.
"So, you can't see or even sense its presence… It must be truly powerful if it's latched itself onto my soul," said Shimoya.
"What are you talking about? I'm confused," said Ryner.
"I've been haunted by an unknown entity for almost three years now," Shimoya said quietly. "And it's all my fault. I brought it on myself."
"It all began when I turned twelve. I was very naive back then. I believed everything people told me, and I let my peers use me however they pleased. I craved attention because I wanted to be known, to feel needed. But what I didn't realize was how much it would change my attitude toward my parents.
"My parents weren't rich, but they weren't poor either. They always provided for my basic needs—whatever I needed in life, they did their best to give it to me.
"The friends I made at the time were outgoing, and most of them came from wealthy families. They got everything they wanted and bragged about it in class to stay in the spotlight. I was jealous—I wanted that same attention, that same admiration.
"So, I went to my parents and begged them to buy me the latest phones and gadgets. But they couldn't afford them. And after a while, I noticed my friends started to drift away. I wasn't rich like them, and they started laughing at me… looking at me with disgust.
"I didn't know what to do, so I blamed my parents for it. For losing my friends. I was such a terrible person…"
Shimoya's voice trembled as she recounted the memory:
"Why do we have to be so poor? I lost all my friends because of you! Why can't you find a proper-paying job? If you had one, I wouldn't be in this mess! I hate you so much… I hope both of you drop dead!"
"I had no idea… that would be the last time I ever saw my parents.
"They got into a car accident not long after… and neither of them made it. I was devastated. I still regret what I said to them to this very day.
"I stopped going to school. I ended up moving in with my aunt. One day, while I was at home, I stumbled upon a strange website. It had an article on how to communicate with the dead.
"I didn't know anything about those things, but my desperation to talk to my parents got the better of me. I gave in. I took part in a lot of strange rituals and other creepy stuff…" Shimoya's voice trailed off.