Part Five was published on the 26th of November.


The torture session started early. The Form Ones at Block C was really scared of all the screaming happening at Block D. 20 prefects surrounded a crying girl in a tight circle while another 30 were bashing her.



“Shameless slut!”

They threw their insults carelessly and forced her to tell the truth though most of them weren’t even paying attention to the details. They just want to see her cower and cry some more. There’s some satisfaction in making the guilty party broken. Deserving of the treatment, they say.

“How dare a junior humiliated a senior and get away with it? How can you live with yourself? Did you not know that slandering is a grave sin?” Saleha screamed in her ears.

“It wasn’t me…it wasn’t me. Please forgive me….” cried the lump on the linoleum.

“She told me all your lies. Unlike you, I am not a lesbian. You should repent from all your sins!” added the prefect. The crowd roared. The little scum will not get away with this. The nerve that she has, telling other juniors that the most prestigious girl in school loved to grab her butt in private. Why, Saleha wasn’t even aware of her existence until she went to the library that evening.

“Have mercy…it was not me,” said the junior.

“Tell me, who was it?” said Saleha grinding her teeth. She’s rather sick and tired of this stupid game.

“It was her. Delila – the girl who talked to you at the library. She was the one who had been in love with you all this time. She framed me because she was jealous of me…” sobbed the girl.

The next torture began promptly.


I started Form Three with the same Bersih girls. Unfortunately in less than 2 weeks in the first term, I was hit full force in the face by a stray dodge ball. Harry couldn’t apologize enough for it. The morning P.E session was put on hold so they can carry me to the sickbay. I was unconscious for most of the time and when I woke up my left eye’s vision is quite hazy.

Half of the class was there. They apparently thought that skipping Math class in the sickbay was appropriate way of taking care of me. They ignored the nurse’s instruction and stayed until after recess. There was another girl sleeping on the furthest bed from the door. She didn’t make a noise while my friends were making fun of my black eye. Apart of her porcelain skin and perfectly ironed clothes, I saw a red backpack placed next to the creaky side table. No one visited her.

Hani said we all should go to lunch together. I tried to stand up but the room spun me round like a Russian roulette. The nurse said something about my inner ear and balance. They all looked at me pitifully when it was announced that I might have to stay for the night.

“I can stay tonight,” said Harry. She was still making up for her mistake in the morning. All of them made for the dining hall 2 blocks away.

There are about 8 beds divided into 2 rows, each with a white side table, a lounge with colorful rattan furniture, a sunflower pot for the centerpiece and a door leading to a 2 cubicle toilet. I doubt if I can make it to the toilet and check my face in the mirror. From the description of the girls it was completely asymmetrical. I probably look like art, maybe like Picasso’s painting.

The silence broken by a noise from the toilet. My eyes darted towards the closed door. Something fell on the other side. A small, hollow, plastic thing. It was nothing unfamiliar. I’m guessing that it was a pail, improperly placed by someone that entered it last.

“Did you hear that?” I asked the other girl.

She barely moved. Nothing escaped her thin lips. She just blinked slowly. Her blank expression troubled me.

The next noise gave me a mini heart attack. Something bigger collapse, like a full shelf. I can hear metal containers scattering and rolling on the floor. I wonder what the nurse kept behind that door. It’s an awfully big racket for a small toilet.

My curiosity pricked. I’m halfway standing. Maybe I should go and check. At least I can see the damage done to my face. The white room swam in a whirlpool. The rattan furniture circled me like a predator. I clutched the thin metal from the edge of the bed next to mine. I found that shutting my eyes and bending my knees helped so I moved ever so slowly towards the bright orange door.

A voice laughed.

Very funny.

My breathing became labored. The distance was enormous. Why would anyone build a toilet this far? I could have had at least 3 grown children by the time I got to the knob. I was getting angrier as I was closer. My left hand was feeling the last mattress when my right felt the wooden door.


With a swift movement I grasped the brass knob and opened it. It was just a normal toilet. The antiseptic smell swept my nostrils clean. My eyes pried for anything unnatural. No pails. Nothing was on the floor. That sickening feeling came and my stomach dropped when I saw it.

The hairy sphere was floating in the toilet bowl. The white ceramic splattered with blood.

A pair of small, black eyes were blinking slowly. The little mouth gaping, drooling. A little, red tongue slithered down to its chin. The hair at the back of my neck prickled when I felt her icy breath. Her thin lips twisted into a horizontal line to each of her cheeks. Rotten fangs blared. She was next to me, her hair covered my cheeks. Her laughter echoed, louder and louder while her rotten scent engulfed me in. In front of me, the baby’s head was bobbing up and down the ruby colored water as I stood motionless. The scream swelled in my throat when I feel it – a pair of little hands tugging at my feet.


Part Seven (Last Part) will be published on the 30th of November. Thank you.

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