My footsteps are echoing in the ghost silent hall while my mind is miles away from reality. Just like the halls in horror movies, I'm surrounded by walls and floors made of redwood, glittering from polish that you can see your reflection through it.
I dread the destination of my feet, but I know I can't chicken out and ruin this moment, he would find me and the conversation won't be as smooth as it was supposed to be.
I allow some locks from my bangs to fall freely. It's been a week since my mother came wrecking the building and demanding an agreement, a week since Richard, the mighty can't find enough courage to address me, and a week since my human is slowly dying.
I get to the brown wooden door of his office in the residence building, I raise my hand reluctantly.
Once you knock, the
