Author: rcast

It is 7:15 a.m. on a Friday morning.

 

I arrived at school much earlier than usual and ran into Seo Jun in the classroom.

 

Seo Jun would always arrive at this time, work the library shift, and return to class around 8:10.

 

“You’re early?” I ask, surprised.

 

“I have club duty. How do you always come at this time, isn’t it hard?”

 

“It’s okay once you get used to it.”

 

“Well, I don’t want to get used to it.”

 

I really don’t want to come to school at this time every day though.

 

“Theater club?”

 

“That’s right.”

 

“Are you in it?”

 

“No. I knit. I’m on the art team.”

 

“…Art team?” Seo Jun repeated incredulously.

 

She must be thinking of the chick I drew in the art club at my old school.

 

“Luckily they don’t make me draw anything.”

 

“Oh, thank God.” Seo Jun sighed with relief.

 

“You’re kidding, right. Let me see how good you are.”

 

I vowed to myself that one day I would make fun of Seo Jun’s drawing skills, and I left the classroom.

 

***

 

The classroom on the fourth floor is much more comfortable now that the ghosts are gone.

 

The art team, the acting team, and the writing team of the Creative Theatre Company gathered in a sleepy circle.

 

“Hey, it’s definitely cramped. How about during regular club hours? There will be more people then.”

 

The sound and lighting teams hadn’t shown up, and the writing team was only a few sophomores, but the space was still too small.

 

“No, it’s not a club where we sit and study. We have to coordinate everything with the movements of the stage, and they can’t even give us a regular classroom.”

 

Despite their complaints, the club members dutifully pushed back all the desks and chairs to create a space for the drama team to use as a stage.

 

“Angela, should we move the whiteboard as well?”

 

“Yes, push it.”

 

The first-year members of the acting team were especially eager.

 

“Hana, why aren’t there any first years on our team?”

 

“There was only one, but he transferred.”

 

“Oh…”

 

Oh, so the kid who transferred was a freshman.

 

“Forget the board. Hey, what about the art team, move a couple of desks over. There’s nowhere for them to sit.”

 

“No, that’s okay, they can just climb on the desks.”

 

As Angela rushed to move a couple of desks out of the first row, Hana, the art team leader, stopped her.

 

“Are you sure that’s okay?”

 

“Yeah. I even like it. I can lie down.”

 

“That’s right. I can knit while lying down.”

 

The art team all took off their shoes and spread out on the tightly packed desks as if it were a normal day.

 

“Does this look like a stage?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“But we’re all going to have to be half as tall to act up here.”

 

We eagerly clapped our hands and whispered so as not to interrupt the acting team’s lines.

 

“By the way, do we have any other props besides these?”

 

Hana threw her hands up in the air at my question.

 

“Yes, we do, but we’re not in a hurry and we’ll use the costumes we have anyway, ah!”

 

Then, as if remembering something, she jerked herself upright.

 

“I was just about to make a poster.”

 

“Oh, right. You had a poster.”

 

“I almost forgot.”

 

The art team nodded in unison.

 

“Okay, art team, here’s your homework assignment: by this time next week, you’ll have one sketch of your poster idea.”

 

Hana gave them an impromptu homework assignment and immediately posted an announcement in the art team’s chat room.

 

“Uhm, team leader, I have a question.”

 

“Go ahead. Baek Iri.”

 

“Who makes the posters? Do you all get together and draw them yourself?”

 

If that’s the case, I should have apologized in advance, but fortunately, it’s not, Hana replied.

 

“I’ll do it, I know Photoshop and I know how to write. When I’m done sketching out ideas, we’ll vote as a club to pick one, and I’ll make it.”

“Oooh, you’ve got my back.”

 

“I’ve got your back!”

 

“Woo! Woo! Woo!”

 

The three art team members, including me, let out a small cheer.

 

Then, as if nothing had happened, they stopped talking in unison and went back to knitting.

 

“Kya, this is the art team, pay attention.”

 

“I actually wanted to talk, but you guys were so quiet, I was just watching you.”

 

Of course, after about two minutes, they started whispering again.

 

“Huh? You didn’t drop your lines after all.”

 

Hana, who had been listening to the acting team practice, muttered. “What lines?”

 

“You know, the one where they yelled at us to revise our script.”

 

“Oh, right.”

 

“They wanted to take out the most problematic line. I guess they talked a lot about it, but decided to leave it in.”

 

“Aahh…”

 

“Well, we got kicked out anyway, so we don’t have to beg for it, and it’s not like they’re going to give us the audio-visual room back now. Oh, listen to it yourself. I’m practicing that line again.”

 

Hana shut up, insisting that she hear it for herself.

 

“Let’s go again. Two, three!”

 

“Wake up. You are serving a monster! The whole village is covered in strings! I don’t know about you, spider cultists, but the villagers are suffering because of these threads. They can’t go about their daily lives!”

 

“You’re talking too much. This is all a test of Mr. Spider’s deepest intentions.”

 

“I see. You’ve been labeling this mess as a trial and ignoring the suffering of the villagers.”

 

“Fufu, it doesn’t matter, the head of the Spider Sect is the daughter of the head of the village.”

 

“It’s a sign of submission to power, and the truth is, the Spider Cultists don’t like it.”

 

The poignant lines flowed like water.

 

My friends on the art team listened intently as the acting team practiced their lines, then lowered their voices and huffed.

 

“I think that part is a twisted way of criticizing our school.” John teased.

 

“But it is criticizing, isn’t it?”

 

“Ugh, yeah. They caught it like a ghost, didn’t they?”

 

“That was Ms. Park Eun-kyung, right?”

 

“I think Heo Kyung-wook made her do it.”

 

“Kyung-wook Heo? Who is Kyung-wook Heo?”

 

“I don’t know, I think he’s the son of the chairman of our school.”

 

“Oh, the one who wears red socks?”

 

“That’s right! How did you know?”

 

“I overheard you guys talking about them the other day.”

 

“Last time? When?”

 

“The day Ms. Park pointed them out to me.”

 

“When was that? I don’t know because she’s been a bit of an asshole.”

 

“The day I organized the same luggage sixteen times.”

 

“Aah, you heard the other day.”

 

I was intrigued and decided to ask for more details.

 

I wanted to know more about the real life of Mukgyeong Girls’ High School that I couldn’t find on the Internet.

 

“This school really has a lot of problems?”

 

I rhymed lightly, and Hana and the rest of the art team, Kim Min-ji and Sung Ju-yeon, lit up.

 

“Oh, they should really rename it Haunted Girls’ High School because the study hall is haunted. All the kids ran out crying while studying for midterms, so we should call an exorcist, but they can’t afford a professional exorcist.”

 

“This was the second semester last year, right?”

 

“Yeah, I think it was about halfway through the first semester last year when I started getting haunted. Wow, that was a year ago.”

 

“You know what’s funny? The PTA said they would pay for the exorcism, but the school wouldn’t let them in.”

 

“Huh? Really? I’ve never heard of that.”

 

“What did they say? They can’t have unauthorized people in the school? They have to get permission, but they won’t give permission to an exorcist.”

 

“Wow, what an excuse.”

 

I interjected in the midst of the outburst of frustration. “So you don’t know why the school is haunted?”

 

This was immediately followed by an explosion of responses.

 

“We don’t know, we’re just blindsided!”

 

“The PTA even went to the school board, but they said they would have to pay them off to stop it.”

 

“You don’t even know why they don’t want to do the exorcism?”

 

“Maybe they don’t have money for exorcisms because Mr. Heo stole all the money from the budget?”

 

“Oh, I really think so.”

 

“Anyway, Heo Kyung-wook is the root of all evil. The other teachers really want to call an exorcist, but they have no choice but to keep quiet because their superiors won’t let them.”

 

“It’s just like the script of the play.”

 

I couldn’t find anything more.

 

It was clear to me that the people in power at the school were really turning a blind eye to the situation.

 

Maybe in the future I should ask the spirits before exorcising them.

 

Would it have been more informative to play “Why are you in my house?” instead of “Escape from Hell”?

 

“The disciplinarians are the winners. They got their asses handed to them last year and then promptly dropped out and went to remedial classes.”

 

“Oh, right.”

 

“But lately I’ve been wondering if I should just drop out. I don’t have any hope.”

 

The conversation soon changed direction, and everyone began to casually talk about a new topic.

 

“Oh, that’s right, Hana. I need some new knitting yarn. Where is it?”

 

“Wait, I’ll get it for you.”

 

In response to my question, Hana got up from her seat and rummaged through the boxes on top of her locker.

 

I followed her and helped her get it out.

 

“I don’t know where to put it. I put it in the top box with the finished product. Why isn’t it there?”

 

“There is one, the last skein in the top box, we took it out earlier.”

 

“Did you use it already? Then we have to get it from under here.”

 

Hana and I pulled out three boxes in a row.

 

 

“Um, it should be in one of these.”

 

“We’re going to have to go through them all.”

 

“Ugh. Let’s put the box with the yarn on top, because we’ll have to keep pulling it out.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“It looks like we only have costumes here.”

 

“Oh, but there’s a light in here.”

 

“I don’t know why that’s there.”

 

In the rush of moving the club room, some of the items were out of place and jumbled together.

 

“Hana, is this the thread in the blue box?”

 

“Oh, yes, it went in there. That’s the junk box.”

 

The yarn was in the third blue box I opened. The blue box was filled with things like a mallet, slate, and acrylic paint.

 

“Why do you have a mallet?”

 

“Oh, that’s because we put on a play and had a game booth at last year’s festival. We used it for punishment at the game booth.”

 

“I see. I thought the play was about whack-a-mole.”

 

“A whack-a-mole play? That sounds fun. Maybe we should have the juniors do it next year. Uh, what’s this?”

 

Hana giggled and rummaged around in the box until she found a paper shopping bag taped shut and pulled it out.

 

The opening of the paper shopping bag, which was about the size of an A4 sheet of paper, was completely covered with tape, folded in half from the top and then wrapped around the entire bag once again. It was yellow box tape, and it looked like an ancient artifact had just been dug up from the dirt.

 

“It’s completely sealed.”

 

Turning the shopping bag around, Hana rearranged the clutter to make room for it at the bottom of the box.

 

“It looks suspicious, so let’s not open it. I’ll put it at the bottom.”

 

Hana’s friends from the art team, who were watching us, chimed in.

 

“Let’s not do a horror movie intro”

 

“Yeah, just put it back.”

 

It was a unanimous decision to keep the contents of the shopping bag from breathing fresh air.

 

“…Yoonju!”

 

All eyes turned to the shopping bag.

 

Even the acting team stopped their lines and looked over.

 

They looked like they wanted to deny reality.

 

Breaking the breathtaking silence, something inside the shopping bag spoke once again.

 

A clear, crisp voice echoed, as if calling an old friend.

 

“Yoonju!”

 

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