by Keir Roopnarine

I’ve been seeing this girl, lately. I mean literally seeing her.

It started with a flicker, just something I saw out of the corner of my eye. I looked up and it was gone. My mind . . . playing tricks?

I saw it again, the next day, that flickering. I looked up to the clock tower, but nothing was there.

I knew I saw something.

It went that way for a week. I would walk to class and something, or someone, would move in the big windows or the balcony. I was never quick enough to see who or what, only to catch that glimpse of movement.

Finally, one day, I was waiting at the school gates for my father; my car had been giving me trouble. I don’t know what possessed me, but I turned to face the tower and there she was. Only her profile was visible, but I could see the dark blue skirt and tie that was our school’s girls’ uniform.

Mine was an all-male school, except the sixth-form; there were a few girls doing A-levels here. I couldn’t see clearly and I didn’t recognize her. I heard Dad’s BMW pull up and looked away. She was gone by the time I turned back.

Now, what had me so puzzled wasn’t that she seemed to vanish, but that she was able to enter the clock tower. No one had been able to open the clock room’s doors for over a decade. From what I understand, the clock stopped chiming the hour about fifteen years ago. The caretaker tried to fix it, but the door to the tower’s uppermost room wouldn’t open. Mr. Avery, the caretaker at the time, even tried taking an axe to the door. He always missed, like the door had invisible hands, batting away the blade at the last minute.

No one succeeded in opening the tower door, and though the clock never chimed again, it always kept accurate time. With a modern bell system installed in the main buildings, there was no use for the tower other than as a historical delight, the school’s landmark. It was eventually forgotten.

How did this girl get into the tower?

After that sighting, it was three days before I saw her again. I had study period and was on my way to the library when I looked to the tower. This time, I could see her clearly. She had a small, oval-shaped face and dark hair that was tied into a low ponytail. Short strands had fallen out, framing a cute face. Nothing irresistible, but attractive nonetheless. I didn’t recognize her.

I reached for my friend, Daniel, to ask if he knew her. “Who?” was his reply.

I was surprised, to say the least. At first, I thought he was just looking the wrong way, but as I followed his gaze, I saw that he stared at the balcony; and that she stared at us.

Our gaze met across the garden, and in those dark orbs I saw intelligence, intensity, even a little confusion and surprise. Then she disappeared. I freaked out. Daniel was completely confused.

Who was she? What was she? Some kind of ghost? Spirit? I’d never believed in those things before. Maybe she was just a figment of my imagination? If she were, then of course I couldn’t expect anyone else to see her. But I couldn’t believe that. I wasn’t crazy. At least, I hoped I wasn’t.

I had to find out. To prove my own sanity.

#

On Saturday, I borrowed dad’s car and drove to school. I stood beneath the clock face and looked up. No one was there.
Should I take my chances and try to open the door? Should I just walk away? Was I going mad? No. I was sane. And I had to understand what the Hell was going on!

I opened the side door. Inside was a small room that looked like it was used for storage. It was dark, dusty, gloomy. I sneezed and coughed my way up the stairs in the corner. They creaked a little, but nothing worrisome. After three and a half flights of tightly winding staircase, there was a large platform, and the unopened door.