MICHELLE

THE GIRL WHO WANTED TO DISAPPEAR

---

The weekend was over, and it was back to school for me. I got

there early, determined to just keep moving forward with my life.

As I walked through the hallway, I couldn’t stop laughing. My

mind was a mess of thoughts — crazy, funny, even bad ones. Wild

ideas like, Mrs. Maddison really needs to do something about her

boobs, or I think I’m in love with Mr. Duff. The more ridiculous

they got, the harder I laughed.

People passing by stared at me like I’d lost my mind.

Then, suddenly, I stopped laughing. A girl caught my attention

she looked like she was in 9th grade, and her whole thoughts

screamed pain, like she was quietly wishing for death.

Without thinking, I walked over and hugged her tightly. She

looked at me, surprised.

“Are you okay? You look like you needed a hug,” she asked, a little

unsure.

I smiled softly. “I should be asking you. Are you okay?” I replied as

I gently led her toward our theatre room.

---

We both sat down in the theatre room, and I turned to her gently.

“Are you having trouble at home or in school?” I asked.

She didn’t answer. Instead, she broke down in tears.

Quietly, I reached into my pocket, pulled out a handkerchief, and

placed it on her lap.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly.

“It’s fine,” she replied, her voice shaking as she picked up the

handkerchief and wiped her face.

“Yes… I am,” I heard her whisper.

“What’s the problem?” I asked carefully.

---

She took a shaky breath.

“My mum left my brother and me alone with my dad recently,”

she began. “After that, he started drinking… too much. I decided

to pick up some small jobs after school, just so we’d have

something to eat every day. But whenever I came back, my dad

would force me to give him the money. If I refused, he’d beat me

— badly — calling me lazy and useless.”

Her voice cracked, but she kept going.

“One time, he told me to go to a club and… do all kinds of things

for money. I refused. So he locked me in a room for two days

without food.”

She stopped, her shoulders trembling, then slowly reached into

her backpack. She pulled out an old photo album, opened it, and

pointed to the picture of a young man in his late twenties.

“And who’s this?” I asked gently.

“My brother,” she whispered as tears began to stream down her

cheeks.

“And… what about him?” I asked, sniffing softly.

“He wanted to go overseas for a job interview,” she said, her voice

breaking. “But the ship… it capsized. He was among those who

were lost at sea.”

She burst into hot tears, clutching the photo like it was the only

piece of him left.

---

“Do you want me to help you?” I asked quietly.

“Yes… help me,” she replied, her eyes widening with a desperate

kind of hope.

In that moment, I could almost read her thoughts — I was her last

chance at survival. If I didn’t help her, she might not make it past

today. Suicide was already dancing at the edge of her mind.

I squeezed her hand tightly.

“He’s a monster,” she whispered, trembling. “I want to go

somewhere — anywhere — far away from him. He promised to

kill me if I didn’t come back home with more than three hundred

dollars. I don’t know where I’m going to get that kind of money.”

Her voice cracked, and tears streamed down her face as she

begged, “Please… help me.”

She held onto me like I was a lifeline.

“I can work for you,” she added quickly. “I heard you’re the fifth

richest kid in school.”

Her hands clung to mine, trembling, afraid to let go.

---

“Fine… what’s your name?” I asked.

Her face brightened a little, like a bit of sunlight breaking through

a storm.

In that instant, I suddenly remembered what my dad once said to

me: You can use your gift to help others.

“It’s Kyla,” she replied in a gentle voice.

That’s when I noticed the scar on her neck — faint, but

unmistakable. It looked like it came from something hot,

something cruel. My stomach turned. I knew I needed to act fast.

“Kyla… I love that name,” I said softly. “I’ll talk to my dad about all

of this. But for now, I have a little playhouse down my street —

you can stay there tonight. By tomorrow, I’m sure we can move

you in with me.”

She stood up, tears still fresh on her cheeks, and hugged me

tightly.

For once, I felt something I’d never really felt before — a sisterly

kind of love. I’d never had anyone to call a brother or a sister. The

doctor had told my parents there wouldn’t be another child after

me, not after the complications with my birth.

So I had only one close person in my life — Ardee. But in that

moment, I knew I was determined to make Kyla stay with me,

even if it meant starving myself in front of Dad until he listened.

We were still wrapped in that hug, both of us holding on like we’d

finally found something solid in a collapsing world, when the

announcement came over the speakers: classes were starting

soon.

I pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes and said,

“Everything’s going to be fine.”

She nodded, a small, hopeful smile on her face, and then left for

class — a little happier, a little lighter — while I stood there,

already planning everything I had to do next.

---

When I got to class, everyone was already seated. As usual, I

quietly slipped into my seat, trying not to draw attention.

But Ardee’s thoughts kept drifting into my head, uninvited and

distracting. All through Physics class, his mind was on Sia. The

only time he thought of me — once, barely — and it made me so

angry I could feel the heat rise in my chest.

After Physics, our class teacher walked in, clapping his hands

lightly to get everyone’s attention.

“Everyone, please stay seated,” he said. “We have a new transfer

student arriving soon.”

I sighed loudly. Heads turned in my direction, but I didn’t care.

What did I care about some new transferee? All I wanted was for

school to end so I could go home and convince Dad about Kyla.

Meanwhile, every girl in class was already buzzing with the same

thought: Please let the new transferee be a boy.

I just sat there, silent, waiting for the clock to move faster, my

mind already far away from that classroom.

---

Ardee came over to my seat and slid into the chair beside me.

“Hey,” he greeted with a smile.

“Hey,” I replied casually.

“So, how was your night?” he asked.

“Great. Yours?”

“Fine too,” he said, then leaned in a little. “But… I was thinking

about you all night.”

I burst out laughing before I could stop myself.

“Why are you laughing?” he asked, clearly confused.

“Because you’re lying,” I said, still giggling.

He opened his mouth, ready to argue, but before he could say

another word, the class teacher walked in. We all stood up in

unison to greet her

---

“So, guys, remember the new transferee I mentioned?” our class

teacher said, standing at the front of the room. “Well, he’s here,

and he’s ready to meet you all.”

Almost instantly, every girl in the room started fixing their hair,

adjusting their clothes, sitting up straighter — the energy shifted

like a wave.

“You can come in,” the teacher called.

The door opened, and in walked a tall, undeniably cute boy with

long hair that fell just perfectly around his face.

I wouldn’t lie — he looked good.

But as soon as he stepped into the classroom, my head almost

exploded. Thoughts — wild, flirty, curious, shameless — came

rushing from every girl in the room, crashing into my mind all at

once like a flood.

---

“Diana: He’s so cute, I’m gonna make him sit beside me.”

“Sia: Oh my God, I’m crushing already.”

“Tessa: I will definitely check this one out.”

“Ardee: A new basketball member, maybe?”

“hailey: I’m gonna die, I love his hair.”

One by one, their thoughts slammed into me like a crowd all

shouting at once.

I looked at him closely and noticed his eyes — blue. Not just blue,

but that deep kind of blue that seemed to hold a whole sky in it.

I smiled to myself as I reached just a little deeper, catching his

thoughts.

He was shy. Nervous. All he wanted was for the teacher to quickly

show him where to sit, so he could hide his face on his desk and

disappear from all the staring eyes.

---

He blushed a little — and I won’t lie, it drove me mad in a way I

didn’t even want to admit.

Ardee noticed. He looked at me and pinched me softly, pulling me

back to reality. I turned to him, sighed quietly, then faced forward

again.

The teacher cleared her throat. “Alright, let’s hear from our new

classmate. Please, introduce yourself.”

He walked to the front of the class, waved a little shyly, and then

began.

“Hello, everyone. My name is Leegon. I’m from Korea. I came here

on transfer, and… I hope to get to know you all as time goes on.”

When he finished, the room filled with claps — mostly from the

girls, of course.

“Thank you, Leegon, for that wonderful introduction,” our class

teacher said warmly. He smiled back at her, polite, a little

awkward.

“You’ll sit behind Michelle over there,” she added, pointing

straight at me. “She’s one of our top students so far.”

For a moment, everything seemed to freeze. Every pair of eyes

turned — first to me, then to him, then back again.

---

“Okay, thanks,” Leegon said as he walked toward my seat.

He had a unique smell — like he’d been dipped into a drum of

strawberries. Sweet, clean, a little distracting.

He sat down behind me, and instantly, my head filled with noise

— thoughts crashing in from all directions, mostly from girls

again.

Sia: Oh no, I’m gonna kill this girl.

Tessa: I’m so jealous of her.

Ardee: Finally, a crush for Mitch.

I turned to look at Ardee. He smiled at me, amused. I sighed

quietly at him and looked away.

Soon enough, the teacher reminded us all to try our best to make

Leegon feel comfortable, then left the classroom.

I placed my head on my desk and pulled out my diary, ready to

write, to escape. But before my pen even touched the page, a loud

noise erupted behind me.

I raised my head quickly, turned around — and there it was: a

large group of girls surrounding Leegon like he was a celebrity.

“What… oh my God,” I muttered under my breath, sighing softly

as I turned back to face the front.

A moment later, Tessa walked over and tapped me gently on the

shoulder.

I smiled at her — I’d already read her thoughts. She wanted me to

leave my seat so she could talk to Leegon.

Without a word, I stood up from my seat and quietly left the class.

---

During break, I snuck back into my classroom to grab my

backpack.

When I got there, Sia and Tessa were still hovering around

Leegon, talking non-stop.

“Excuse me,” I said as I stepped past them and reached for my bag.

“She’s my slave girl,” I heard Tessa say to Leegon, and Sia burst out

laughing.

I froze. My jaw tightened.

I looked at Leegon — he wasn’t laughing. Not even close. His

thoughts were already drifting, annoyed, wanting to leave the

classroom; it was getting too stuffy for him, too childish.

I came back to my seat, walked right up to Tessa, and slapped her.

Hard.

The sound cracked through the room like a gunshot.

Sia jumped up instantly, ready to fight me. But I didn’t give her the

chance — I turned and left the classroom as quickly as I could, my

heart pounding but my steps steady.

As I walked down the hallway, I caught one last thought from

Leegon, sharp and quiet like a secret whispered only to me:

It serves her right.

I smiled to myself.

---

I got to the cafeteria and sat at my usual spot, the one I always

went to when I wanted to be left alone.

I picked at my food quietly. You were in fencing class, so I didn’t

bother texting you.

The noise of the cafeteria faded into the background as my mind

drifted back — to Kyla, to Tessa, to Leegon’s quiet little thought

that still made me smile.

---

I heard a loud noise ripple through the cafeteria. Chairs scraped,

trays clattered, voices shot up like fireworks.

Curious, I stood up to see what was going on.

It was Leegon.

He had just walked in, probably just wanting to eat, but every girl

in sight was already begging him to sit with them — each one

trying to be louder, prettier, more noticeable than the last.

He gave out a cute smile — polite, soft — and I instantly knew he

wasn’t going to listen to any of them.

I dipped into his thoughts and there it was, clear and quiet in my

mind: he was thinking about coming to sit with me. I was the only

one sitting alone.

My heart skipped — just once — before I quickly stood up,

grabbed my tray, and walked out of the cafeteria, heading back to

class before anything could happen.

---

I turned my head and spotted Tessa and her friends across the

hallway. She was staring at me, angry — the kind of angry that

promised trouble later.

I just smiled and waved at her like nothing was wrong, a quiet

little dare hiding behind the gesture.

Soon enough, the bell rang, signaling the end of break. Everyone

drifted back toward their classrooms in noisy little groups, the

halls slowly emptying again.

Leegon came back to his seat, sliding into the chair behind me.

Almost instantly, the air in the room shifted — the same group of

girls crowded around him again, leaning in, laughing too loud,

trying too hard.

I sat still, watching quietly, my thoughts already running ahead of

whatever was about to happen next.

---

After school not only had I learned that Leegon was super cute,

but I also found out he was super rich. When school was over, he

he was escorted to his car by two huge bodyguards.

Everyone rushed outside just to get a glimpse. Phones came out,

whispers turned into squeals, and then came the collective sigh

when his driver finally pulled away and the car disappeared

down the street.

My own driver arrived a few minutes later, and I climbed in

quietly. The ride home felt long; my head was still buzzing with

everything that had happened that day — Kyla, Tessa, Leegon, all

of it crashing into one another in my thoughts.

When I finally got home, Dad was in the living room, watching his

favorite show.

---

I greeted him softly as I sat down beside him.

“My baby,” he said, his face lighting up as he pulled me into a hug.

For a moment, I just leaned into him. Safe. Familiar.

“Oh — I almost forgot,” I thought, suddenly remembering: Kyla

was at my playhouse. I’d sent my driver to take her there without

Dad knowing yet.

“Dad, I have something to tell you,” I said as I reached for the

remote and turned off the TV.

He glanced at me, eyebrows raised. “Any problem, baby?”

“Dad… remember when you told me I could use my gift to help

others?” I started carefully.

“Yes,” he replied, a small smile tugging at his lips, already curious.

“Well, I did,” I said, my voice dropping a little, “but I’d like to seek

your permission to do something more.”

I paused, searching his face, gathering the courage to go on.

“And that is?” he asked, surprised now, leaning in.

---

“There’s a girl in 9th grade,” I began softly. “She really needs our

help.”

Dad’s expression shifted, the smile fading as he listened.

“Her mom left her alone with her dad… and her brother. And then

her brother died while trying to go overseas.” My voice wavered.

“Now it’s just her and her father — and he beats her to a pulp

every day.”

I swallowed hard, forcing the words out before I lost the courage.

“I really need your help to bring her here, to let her live with us,” I

pleaded, eyes searching his. “We can pay her dad some money.

I’m sure he’d prefer cash to his own daughter — that’s how cruel

he is.”

I leaned forward, my face heavy with sadness. “Please, Dad. I

promise you won’t regret this

---

“And is that why my daughter has been moody?” Dad asked gently.

Then he gave a soft, almost proud smile. “Your gift is to help

others, so who am I to stop you from doing so?”

Relief flooded through me. I smiled at him, a little shakily.

“But, Dad… one more thing,” I said carefully.

He looked at me, curious now.

“She’s… kind of in my playhouse at the moment,” I admitted. “Her

dad promised to kill her if she didn’t bring home at least three

hundred dollars today.”

Dad’s expression hardened instantly. “Really?” His voice dropped

low, serious.

Then he stood up sharply. “Then what are we still doing here?

Let’s go get her.”

I didn’t wait for him to say anything else — I shot to my room,

heart pounding, grabbing a change of clothes as quickly as I

could.

---

Dad drove us straight to my playhouse, and there was Kyla —

sitting all alone, her small frame hunched over, lost in thoughts

I ran to her and pulled her into a hug.

“Kyla,” I said softly, “this is my dad.”

She looked up nervously, but Dad gave her a warm, reassuring

smile. “Come on,” he said gently. “Take us to where you live.”

Kyla agreed without hesitation, and we left immediately.

When we got there, her house came into view — an old, detached

place that seemed to carry every bad memory on its peeling walls.

Kyla’s dad was sitting out front, a bottle at his side.

We all got out of the car, Kyla trailing just a little behind me.

The moment her dad saw her, his face twisted in anger. He stood

up fast, ready to grab her — but Dad stepped in, shoving him

aside firmly, his calm replaced by quiet fury.

Without a word, Dad threw a bundle of money — $9,000 — onto

the ground in front of the man.

The old drunk lunged at it, scooping it up greedily, already

thumbing through the bills like nothing else in the world

mattered.

I turned to Kyla. Her eyes brimmed with tears — this time not

from fear, but from a rush of relief she couldn’t even name.

I hugged her tight, smiling just enough to whisper, “Everything’s

going to be fine now

---

I dipped into her father’s thoughts and what I found made me

both happy and sick at the same time — he was thrilled that a

rich man was taking Kyla away. Thrilled. No regret, no shame, just

relief that someone else would handle what he considered a

burden.

Disappointment settled in my chest like a stone, followed quickly

by anger.

Dad, calm but firm, reached into his briefcase and pulled out ten

more bundles of hundreds. He handed them over without

hesitation.

“I’ll be adopting Kyla,” Dad said clearly, locking eyes with the man.

“I’ll bring the adoption documents next week.”

The man barely blinked before nodding eagerly. “Fine, fine,” he

muttered, already running inside to gather up Kyla’s belongings,

stuffing her life into a bag without care.

Dad waved him off. “Keep it,” he said coldly. “She doesn’t need

anything from here.”

We all got back into the car.

For a moment it was quiet — just the low hum of the engine and

the soft breathing of everyone inside — until Kyla finally broke.

She burst into tears, hot and heavy, like everything she had been

holding back had suddenly crashed through her chest.

I pulled her into a hug, my own eyes blurring, and before I knew

it, I was crying too.

---

Dad wasn’t satisfied with the heavy mood hanging over us, so

instead of heading straight home, he turned the car toward the

shopping mall.

We spent hours there, moving from store to store. Clothes, shoes,

new bags — one for me, one for Kyla. Dad even surprised her

with a phone of her own. I could see the way she tried to hold

back tears every time he handed her something, like she couldn’t

quite believe any of it was real.

By the time we were done, we were exhausted, laughing a little at

how many shopping bags we were dragging behind us.

When we finally got home, the smell of dinner filled the air —

Mrs. Nancy had already prepared everything, like always.

I carried all our shopping bags upstairs with Kyla, heading

straight to Mom’s old room — the one that still felt warm, still felt

safe, like it could hold someone new.

Among the bags was a small red one. I’d picked it out for Mrs.

Nancy while we were shopping; her birthday was coming up, and

she had always been more than just house staff to us — she was

family.

---

Kyla poked her head into my room a little later, clutching the edge

of the door like she wasn’t sure if she should even ask.

“Can I… stay with you tonight?”

I smiled and nodded immediately. “Of course. Come on in.”

She climbed onto the bed, curled up like someone who hadn’t had

a safe place to sleep in a long time.

The night was quiet at first, the kind of stillness that lets you

finally breathe. And then it started — soft at first, then full force:

Kyla’s snoring.

It was loud enough to wake a dead man.

I tried to hold it in, but eventually I couldn’t stop laughing —

quietly at first, then shaking the whole bed trying not to make a

sound.

For the first time in days, the laughter wasn’t nervous or forced; it

was just real.