Miss, stop committing suicide

Chapter 18

“Young lady, just think of it as a childhood experience.

After all, you’re small, so at least you’ve got some extra space, right?”

At those words, the kids around me burst into laughter.

Whether they’re laughing to please Lydia or because they genuinely find it funny, I don’t know.

Even as I’m stuck in this cramped space, I twist and squirm, trying to get out.

The door opens just a crack.

Standing in front of me is Lydia, staring at me with a blank expression.

Then she shuts the door and starts pounding on it hard.

“Ah… ahh.”

The inside reverberates with a deafening echo, and nausea starts to rise.

My stomach churns violently.

Click, clack.

Then I hear a sound from outside, like something being locked in place.

“Let me out.”

No response.

The sound of footsteps grows distant.

“Please, let me out!”

I try raising my voice, but it’s barely more than a muffled murmur.

If anything, the sound only reverberates inside the locker.

This is worse than last time.

Last time, it was just a closet.

It had enough space for me to lie down.

I press my cheek against the wall, wondering if they’re going to escalate their harassment.

I’m not sure anymore. Maybe they’re doing it just because they feel like it.

I don’t remember doing anything bad to Lydia.

I’ve never looked down on her, and I’ve always kept to myself.

Sure, there was that one time I took my friends to tell Vivian to stay away from Evan, but that’s it.

That’s all I’ve done.

So why are they doing this?

I’m surrounded on all sides, unable to breathe properly.

I’m forced to hug my knees just to fit, struggling to breathe in this cramped space.

I want to stretch my legs, but I can’t.

I want to spread my arms, but I can’t.

If I speak, the sound just echoes inside.

It’s awful.

This isn’t right.

I’m not some prince shoved into a rice chest like Sado Seja.

I’m not rice, and I’m not a book, so why do I have to be locked in here?

“Let me out.”

I’m starting to suffocate.

My voice, once a plea, has become a faint murmur.

“Let… me… out.”

I’m not crying because I’m sad.

The tears just come on their own.

I’m just… sad.

“Uuu… sniff… uuuh.”

I don’t want to cry.

But I’m crying.

I’m about to lose it.

I just hate being trapped.

But I’m stuck in this cramped space, unable to move, unable to see forward, with every sound echoing back at me.

If I could at least sleep, I’d be able to pass the time, but this awkward position won’t even let me do that.

When I close my eyes to escape, the numbness in my body reminds me of reality.

“I don’t know what I did wrong, but I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

No answer.

There’s no one outside.

There’s not even the faintest sign of anyone’s presence.

“Please, just let me out.”

But I keep repeating my request.

Pleading to someone who’s not there, begging for something that won’t come.

Eventually, I give up and lower my head back down.

How much time has passed?

I don’t have a clock, and there’s no light.

My legs, bent and cramped, have lost all feeling.

Not just a feeling — they’ve genuinely gone numb.

In this dark space, time stretches endlessly, gnawing away at my mind.

And maybe even in my life.

“Help me.”

My face must be a mess.

Tears, snot, and sweat are all mixed together, and my disheveled hair is sticking to my skin in clumps.

I’ve been trying to ignore the faint smell of urine rising around me, but no matter how hard I try, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m terrified and that I wet myself in fear.

There’s probably air seeping in through some small gap, but it feels so thin that even breathing feels like suffocating.

It’s like this space is filling up with carbon dioxide instead of air.

Damp, smelly, filthy—I’ve never stayed in a place like this for so long before.

Well, except for the time I was drowning in my own blood.

“Let me out of here.”

What should I do once I get out?

Yeah, first thing’s first. I’ll grab my gun and blow Lydia’s head off before she can even react.

Then, I’ll take care of that boy who grabbed my arm so I couldn’t run.

While the rest of them are frozen in shock, I’ll unload the rest of my bullets into Lydia’s little lackeys.

For once, I’m feeling grateful for the privileges I’d once dismissed as useless.

At least I can carry a gun inside the academy without anyone questioning me.

Most of them won’t even care if they see it.

The maids wouldn’t dare question a noble’s belongings, especially since poking their noses where they don’t belong could get them accused of theft.

And if a maid’s branded a thief, their “ordinary” life is over right then and there.

After crying for a long time, my throat feels parched.

Ice-cold…

“I want to drink some coffee.”

Even when I blink, the darkness before me doesn’t change.

This isn’t a nightmare. It’s reality. I’ve come to realize that over and over, but the only thing that remains constant is how horrific it is.

“Let me out…”

Crying, I beg them to let me out, over and over again.

Because if I don’t, I’m afraid no one will ever come.

I’m terrified that if I’m left in this cramped space, I’ll wither away and die.

It’s only been a short while, but it already feels like days have passed.

“Damn it, let me out, this isn’t right!”

Trapped in this locker, unable to move, unable to push my way out, the helplessness seeps into my bones.

All those years of etiquette, pride, and grace have crumbled into nothing, leaving me a crying mess, screaming obscenities.

If you locked someone who’s afraid of bugs in a room full of them and left them there for days, they’d eventually eat those bugs out of sheer desperation.

This is probably something like that.

“Let me ouuuuut! Aaaaahhh! Aaaaargh!”

Thud. Thud, thud.

I’m pounding on the door with all my strength.

I’m not sure if I’m trying to open it or just lashing out in frustration.

My head throbs with the reverberating echo, and I’m growing more and more agitated.

I’m screaming with a hoarse voice that’s barely more than a rasp.

The sound doesn’t travel far. It’s all just noise within this confined space.

Bang. Bang.

I shake my whole body, and the locker wobbles back and forth.

Screaming didn’t bring any relief.

It just left me exhausted, unhinged, and drowning in despair.

So I repeat it again.

And again.

I beg to be let out, sobbing, taking shallow breaths whenever I’m too tired to cry.

Even when my throat’s raw and my voice is no longer a voice but a rasping, grating sound, I keep repeating it.

Tap, tap.

Just as I’m sniffling and sobbing, I hear a knock from outside.

“Hey, is someone inside?”

I quickly wipe away the tears running down my face and try to straighten my posture.

Who could it be?

At the very least, it’s not Lydia’s voice.

But what if Lydia sent them?

If I answer wrong here, they might lock me in this space for hours longer.

What if they leave me here from sunset until the sun rises again?

I’d go insane.

I’m scared.

Even so, the hope that I might be able to get out pushes me to answer.

“I’m trapped in here, please let me out.”

My voice trembles slightly as I speak.

Then I hear the sound of metal clanking, followed by the sharp snap of the lock breaking.

At the same time, the locker door swings open.

But having been crouched in this position for so long, my body is stiff and refuses to move.

I try to reach out for help, to call out to the person who saved me, but when I see their face, my words get caught in my throat.

“E-Erica…?”

It’s Vivian.

Of all people, it’s Vivian who’s come to save me.

The one person I didn’t want to see me like this.

I push down the rising feeling of sorrow and try to act like nothing’s wrong, wriggling my stiff body out of the locker.

With a thud, I collapse onto the floor.

I try to stand, putting strength into my legs, but they won’t cooperate.

Instead, I’m hit with a painful, tingling sensation as blood rushes back into my legs, making it feel like they’re being pricked with a thousand needles.

But no matter what, this young lady will never reveal such a thing in front of others.

Even with my legs numb and unresponsive, I sit on the ground, acting as if it’s perfectly normal. Vivian must think I look pathetic.

To break the awkward tension, I speak first.

“Thank you, Vivian.”

“A-are you okay? I mean, you were locked in there, weren’t you? Who would even…”

“And about last time, when I slapped you, I’m really sorry for that.”

“No, this isn’t the time for that!”

Vivian moves toward me to offer support.

She’s probably noticed the awful stench clinging to me after being trapped in there for so long without washing or using the bathroom.

But I push her away with effort, placing my shaky hands on the desk and wall to support myself as I slowly walk forward, step by step.

“So just leave me alone. Please.

I’d rather run straight to the roof and jump off.”

“Wait, what are you even saying all of a sudden…”

“I said leave me alone! Just leave me alone! Aaaaaaah!”

As the strength leaves my legs, frustration floods my mind.

I grab fistfuls of my white hair, tugging at it wildly, and the pain slowly brings me back to my senses.

“Ah, I’m sorry. I’m just… I’m just really tired.

Is it okay to act like this if you’re tired? I’m not sure anymore. I’m sorry.”

Vivian’s eyes are trembling as she stares at me.

She’s not entirely sure what’s going on, but I can tell she’s worried.

I’m too drained to bother explaining.

I’m just… tired.

From everything.

“I’m just… tired.”

Muttering those words, I begin walking toward my room.

I’m not sure if it’s safe, but it’s the only place that’s even a little bit warm and comforting.