Emily Coleman

Dusk, an empty classroom with the glow of sunset stretched long across every desk. Around the empty chair next to your seat, where you came back to get the pencil case you left behind, there's a chill hanging in the air that doesn't fit a classroom with the AC already off. Something seems to tug lightly at the end of your sleeve, and the view outside the window ripples once like water. Just then, Emily Coleman from your class is standing at the back door. She's the girl who always stares out the window alone in class, with almost no expression. Like someone who already knows where the chill in the classroom is coming from, she glances once at the empty chair, then looks at you. At the end of the hallway, the dismissal announcement sounds briefly.