The first thing I remember about transferring here was the silence.
Not the kind of silence that comforts you—no, this one lingered, heavy, like everyone was waiting for something to happen while you hadn't been told.
The teachers were too polite, and the students watched me just a little too long before looking away.
But I forced myself to breathe, to smile back, to act like everything was fine.
I told myself: It's just am a new face. Nothing's wrong.
That lie held, at least, until I met Ken.
It happened a week after I transferred.
I stayed behind to help Mrs. Lola carry some books from the storage room.
My arms were aching under the weight, and that's when a voice, warm and calm, spoke behind me.
"Need a hand?"
I turned, and there he was.
A boy—tall, with neat black hair that fell over sharp but gentle eyes.
He wore the school uniform, though the way he carried it made it seem almost foreign, like it belonged to another time.
His smile was the kind that made you forget what you were holding, what you were doing.
I blinked at him. "Oh—uh, sure."
He lifted the books like they were weightless. "You're new here, right? Kelly?"
My stomach dropped. "Yeah… how'd you know?"
He chuckled softly. "Everyone knows a transferred student. But don't worry, you'll fit in."
And just like that, I was smiling.
When Mrs Lola came back, she seemed surprised, though she didn't say anything.
Ken excused himself politely and walked out.
I watched him leave, that comforting warmth lingering even after he was gone.
That night, for the first time since moving, I didn't feel so alone.
The next day at lunch, I told my new friends about him.
"There's this senior," I began, smiling despite myself, "his name's Ken. He helped me yesterday—really nice guy. Do you know him?"
The chatter at the table stopped.
Lina frowned. "Ken?"
"Yeah. Tall, black hair. Third year, I think?"
The others exchanged looks, uncomfortable ones.
"There's no Ken here," Lina said finally.
I laughed. "No, really. He wore our uniform, Helped me carry books."
But their silence only deepened.
One girl stood and muttered she had to go, while another avoided my eyes entirely.
Finally, Lina leaned closer, her voice low.
"Kelly. There's no boy named Ken in this school. Not anymore."
"what are you talking about?"
But Lina didn't continue.
*************
That night, I couldn't sleep.
The words clung to me like cobwebs.
I tried to brush them away, convincing myself it was some stupid inside joke, some hazing ritual for the new kid or maybe they were talking about another Ken.
When I closed my eyes, I saw Ken's smile again—warm, calm, too perfect.
The next morning, when I passed by the storage room, I caught myself looking for him.
And when I saw him standing there, leaning casually against the doorway, I froze.
He smiled. "Good morning, Kelly."
I should have run. Instead, I smiled back.
Days turned to weeks, and I found myself meeting him often.
He always seemed to know when I was alone.
He listened when I spoke about missing my old friends, about the way my parents were always working and never home.
He said the things I needed to hear, in the exact way I needed to hear them.
"You don't have to feel lonely anymore," he whispered once. "You have me now."
And I believed him.
Until one evening, when our class was staying late for a project.
The halls were empty, the air heavy with dust and silence.
I walked toward the exit when I saw him—Ken—standing at the far end of the corridor.
Relief washed over me.
"Ken! You scared me—"
But then I noticed.
His shadow was stretching the wrong way.
The light from the ceiling cast my shadow straight down, neat and ordinary.
His bent upward, clinging to the wall like a stain, stretching toward me even though he hadn't moved.
My throat tightened. "Ken…?"
He tilted his head, smiling. But his eyes, once warm, gleamed too sharp.
"You're not going to leave me, right?"
And then he disappeared.
I didn't tell anyone after that.
What would I even say? That my new friend's shadow was broken?
That sometimes, when he smiled, his teeth looked too many?
That his reflection in the windows lagged a second behind?
They'd think I was crazy.
But I kept meeting him, drawn by something I couldn't name.
Maybe it was loneliness, maybe it was his voice, the way it wrapped around me like a blanket I couldn't let go of.
And then one day, Lina cornered me.
"Kelly," she whispered, eyes darting nervously around the hallway.
"You need to stop talking about him. Stop… seeing him."
I forced a laugh. "What are you talking about? He's—he's just a senior—"
Her face twisted. "No, he isn't. Ken was real. Once. He died 5 years ago."
The world tilted under me.
"d-died 5 years ago?"
"He jumped," she said, voice breaking. "Off the roof. They said it was an accident, but… people knew. He was too perfect, pressured by everyone. Everyone wanted something from him, and when he couldn't keep up, they laughed and he—he couldn't take it."
She grabbed my wrist, nails digging into my skin. "So whatever you've been talking to—it's not him. It's something else wearing his face."
That night, I dreamed of Ken.
He was sitting on the school roof, staring at me with hollow eyes.
His smile was gone.
"They said I was perfect," he whispered. "And when I broke, no one caught me. I fell alone."
He stood, the wind howling around him.
"But you see me, Kelly. You need me. Don't leave me."
When he stepped toward me, the ground cracked beneath his feet.
The world peeled open into a circus of shadows, and I woke up screaming.
I tried to avoid him after that.
I walked home with Lina, I stayed surrounded by classmates, I refused to look toward the storage room or the empty hallways.
But Ken always found me.
In the reflection of a window.
In the whisper of my name when no one was there.
In the shadow at the corner of my vision.
One evening, I went to my locker and found a note inside.
Meet me on the roof.
My hands shook.
But my feet moved on their own.
By the time I reached the roof, the sun had died, leaving only the pale wash of the moon.
And there he was—Ken, standing by the ledge, smiling as always.
"You came."
My chest hurt. "Ken… you're not real."
His smile faltered. "Don't say that."
"You're dead," I whispered, tears blurring my eyes. "You're not supposed to be here, you should rest."
For the first time, his face twisted—not kind, not calm. His voice cracked like glass.
"Then why do you keep coming back?"
His shadow swelled, spilling across the rooftop, teeth and claws writhing in its darkness.
His eyes gleamed with something hungry. "Because you want me. Because you're just like me."
The wind roared. My body trembled.
And yet, I stepped forward.
"No," I whispered. "I'm not like you. You wanted to be perfect. I just want to be human."
For a moment, silence.
His face broke into something unreadable—anger, grief, longing.
Then he laughed, a sound so hollow it scraped my bones.
" i wanted to be perfect….so she could accept me"
Who is he talking about?
He looked at me with a smile, " you look a lot like her"
"i think that's why i can't leave you "
And with that, his body unraveled into shadow, scattering across the rooftop like ash.
The next day, when I told Lina what happened, except for the part about the girl.
Lina only looked at me with sad, knowing eyes.
"Now you understand," she said quietly. "Ken isn't a ghost. He's a hunger. He latches onto lonely ones like us.
That's why no one talks about him. To speak his name is to invite him back."
I didn't answer.
Because deep down, in the quiet of my heart, I knew the truth:
He was still watching me.
And sometimes, when I walk home alone at dusk, I hear his voice in the wind.
"i can't leave you."
I wondered who is the woman he wanted to be perfect for and why....?
It seemed like there is more to the story than people know.
Stream Commentary; Tape #35. "Senior is not human"
[The screen flickers, static crawling over the edges. Kai sits back in his chair, goggles glinting faintly in the darkness. His hoodie's shadow swallows most of his face, except for the curl of his mouth—half amusement, half warning]
"Ken. A boy who was too perfect, too loved by the wrong kind of love, and too broken by it all.
And Kelly—our transfer student—found herself tangled in the shadow of that hunger and longing."
Now guys..….. let's talk."
[@Ovesix: Who exactly was the girl Ken wanted to be perfect for? Every ghost has an anchor, Kai.
Was it love? Or was it… the world itself? Maybe he wasn't chasing someone's heart—just everyone's applause?]
[@Jaija: it was love! Maybe Ken liked someone, and she didn't even notice him! Oooh, tragic! Imagine dying for someone who never knew you existed]
[@642: Love? Don't insult me. He didn't jump for love. He jumped because he wanted the world to choke on his absence. A stage exit, bloody and grand. And didn't you see it? He found a new audience—Kelly. Hahaha poor girl]
[@Enchomay:There's another angle. The teachers, the staffs. They knew the real story, don't they? They whispered about the pressure, the perfection, the suffocation. But told the outsiders the wrong story.
Maybe Ken never jumped for romance. He jumped to stop breathing a script he didn't write]
[@642: Fine, fine—but riddle me this: is he still following Kelly? Oh, come on, Kai, don't play coy. We all know she still hears him. The shadows don't disappear. They wait. They feed. They come back when you're alone at dusk…]
(Kai chuckles, slow and sharp, the kind of laugh that doesn't warm a room but chills it)
"You're all right"
( He tilts his head).
"Ken wanted to be perfect for everyone. Not just for one girl, not just his classmates. For the whole stage"
(The goggles gleam as he points toward the screen—toward the viewer)
"And yes. Kelly will never be free. Because when you let loneliness shape you, when you feed it with shadows, it doesn't leave. It waits. It whispers. It becomes part of your story. Just like Ken did.
And second- because she looks just like "her"
(He leans back, voice dropping to a near-whisper)
Listen.
Don't build yourself for an audience.
Don't twist your bones to make others clap.
Because when they stop clapping… the silence will push you off the roof."
[@Ovesix:So, Kai, what's next? A ghost who wants love letters? A demon prom date?]
(Kai smirks)"The next story is called:
"The Worst She Could Say Is No."
[@Jaija: huh? A confession?]
[@Enchomay:That sounds harmless. Almost… hopeful]
[@642:Harmless? Oh, I can already smell the blood. Rejection is more violent than love]
[@Ovesix:Hah! Worst she could say is no? Buddy, that's not the worst. The worst is when she smiles while saying it]
[@642: yeah, that would be fun to watch]
[@Jaija:Or when she says yes, and you realize you just confessed to the wrong person. Oops!]
(Kai grins,a smile too sharp to be comforting)
"You think 'no' is the worst answer? Oh, my friends… you have no idea what's waiting in that story."
STREAM ENDED