The cold wind drifted through the open window of the dimly lit school hallway. Kelly stood frozen, the boy's intense, unreadable stare sending waves of nervous energy through her. She avoided meeting his eyes, her own gaze settling somewhere around his chest. *At least he's so tall I don't have to look at him directly. How tall is he anyway?* she wondered, estimating he must be at least 190 cm or taller. She summoned her courage and managed to stutter, "Ah... umm, sorry to disturb you, but I have something to ask…"
Kelly's voice trailed off as uncertainty gripped her. *How should I even ask him? Should I just blurt out everything about my dreams and the clock? That would sound insane,* she thought, her eyes fixed on the ground. It was different with Jane—sharing strange things with a friend felt safe. But this boy? He was a complete mystery, and his mere presence felt eerie. A chilly breeze swept through the hallway, making her shiver as she finally decided on a plan. *I'll be friendly first. Maybe if I get to know him, I'll feel less weird about asking.*
Taking a deep breath, she tried a different approach. "Uh, hey... I saw your drawing the other day. It looked really cool. Does it mean anything?" The boy's expression remained unchanged, his gaze locked on her, making no attempt to reply.
"Are you new here?" Kelly pressed, her voice wavering slightly. Still nothing. The boy's eyes stayed focused, unreadable and detached. "You joined the art club, right?" she tried again. Silence. His expression never shifted, and Kelly's irritation started to bubble up. *Is he even listening to me?* she thought, growing frustrated.
"Hellooo?" she snapped, waving a hand in front of his face. "Can you talk? Can you understand me, or are you deaf?" The boy's face finally shifted, a look of confusion spreading across his features. He glanced around, as if only now realizing she was addressing him, before returning his blank stare to her. The look on his face seemed to silently ask, *Why is this girl talking to me?*
Kelly exhaled loudly. *This is getting ridiculous,* she thought. *I never imagined talking to him would be this hard.* The awkwardness had already washed away her nervousness. *Might as well ask directly,* she decided. Her desire for answers overpowered her hesitation.
"Fine," Kelly declared. "I'll get straight to the point. Why did you draw that clock? Does it have any meaning to you? Did you see it in a dream or… where did the idea come from?" Her words filled the otherwise empty hallway, and then silence descended.
The night around them seemed to hold its breath. The crimson moonlight faded, replaced by heavy rain and a gust of wind that howled through the corridors. Darkness enveloped them, but Kelly's eyes never left the boy's face. His lips parted, and finally, he spoke, his voice soft and gentle, almost fragile.
"The clock… in my dreams. I saw it there," he murmured.
Here's the revised version of your chapter with improved clarity, world-building elements, and some adjustments to the flow and grammar. I've added a bit more sensory detail to help immerse the reader in the setting, particularly with the cold wind and rain.
Kelly's eyes widened in shock. She could hardly believe what the bronze boy had said. *He saw it… in his dreams? Does that mean he's had those dreams too? Is it possible that he, like me, has no memories? Are his dreams as terrifying as mine?* Kelly's mind raced as the storm outside intensified, thunder crashing and rain hammering against the windows. The wind howled, gusting through the night air, making the leaves outside rustle with eerie whispers. The more she thought about it, the more confused she became. She couldn't shake the unsettling question: Why had he also seen the same clock from her dreams?
Her thoughts spiraled into a whirlwind of doubts and questions—who was this boy? What did it mean for him to share such vivid dreams with her? And what was the connection between the haunting tall man, the woman in white, and the bloodied clock she saw in her visions?
Suddenly, she couldn't hold back. "Who are you?" Kelly asked, her voice filled with urgency.
"I don't know either," the bronze boy answered softly.
"What? What do you mean you don't know?" Kelly asked, her voice faltering, growing smaller with each word. She paused, her heart hammering in her chest. *Does that mean he has no memories either?*
"Did you mean you don't have any memories?" Kelly pressed, her mind reeling. "What is your name?"
The boy opened his mouth, as if to speak, but Kelly added another question, her curiosity too strong to resist. "You said you saw the clock from your dream. What did your dream look like?"
Before the boy could respond, she interrupted again, her eyes wide with unspoken concern. "And who are your parents? What did they say about your memories? Did they say anything strange?"
The bronze boy stood still, staring at Kelly, clearly overwhelmed by the barrage of questions. He didn't know where to begin. Kelly watched him intently, waiting for an answer, her impatience growing with every passing second.
Finally, the boy spoke, his voice soft and hesitant. "I don't have parents… and I don't have a name," he said, the words hanging heavily in the air.
Kelly's heart skipped a beat. *What? He has no parents and no name? What does that mean?*
"Ah… um, what do you mean by not having a name? I might understand if you said you don't have parents, but a name?" Kelly asked, confusion clouding her thoughts.
"I… don't have a name like all of you do," the boy replied, his expression vacant and distant.
Kelly was stunned. "A... I... I mean, why don't you have a name?" she asked again, her voice trembling. "How could that be possible?"
"I don't know. I don't remember why… I just don't have a name," he repeated.
Kelly's eyes darted around, her mind racing to make sense of everything. She changed the subject. "How about your parents? You must have had some, right?"
"Parents?" The boy's face remained expressionless. "I don't even know what that is."
Kelly staggered back, her mind reeling. *He doesn't know what parents are? He doesn't have a name? We share the same dream, but this boy is... so strange. So different. Wait... how did he even get into the school? I first saw him in the art room, and Jane said she never saw him there. How is that possible?*
Before she could voice her next thought, Kelly suddenly asked, "How did you get into this school? How does no one notice you?"
The boy looked at her, his gaze unfocused. "No one really notices me. I go everywhere, but no one talks to me, or even sees me."
Kelly froze, staring at him in disbelief. *Wait… no one notices him? Is... is he a ghost?*
A powerful thunderclap broke through her thoughts, rattling the windows. The boy's face remained unchanged, almost as though the storm didn't affect him at all. *Wait, that's impossible. Jane can see him, too. But... could she have some ability to see ghosts? Is he a ghost? No, he can't be. But then... why doesn't he have memories? Could he be dead? Is that why he has no memories? Do ghosts have dreams, or is it just a piece of his past he's forgotten?*
Kelly's head was spinning, her thoughts tangled in a web of confusion. She gazed at the boy's impassive face, her mind trying to piece together the puzzle. But before she could ask more, a voice broke through the silence.
"Hello… is there someone still awake?" It was the voice of the school guard.
Kelly snapped out of her thoughts, realizing the danger they were in. Without thinking, she grabbed the boy's hand and ran with him down the hall to the nearest classroom. They reached the door just in time, and Kelly quickly closed it behind them.
The storm was beginning to die down, but a cold wind seeped through the cracked window, sending a shiver down her spine.
"What kind of dream did you have, where you saw the clock?" Kelly asked, her face serious, her breath shallow from the sudden rush.
"It was broad daylight," the bronze boy began. "I was walking through a busy street, people selling things and shouting. In the middle of the street was a giant clock, covered in flowers. But every time I passed that clock, it would chime at noon. When it sounded the first time, everyone would freeze. The second time, everything turned red, full of blood. The people were dead, and I could hear their rage and hatred. Those voices keep echoing in my head. That's the dream I have every time."
Kelly paused, her breath caught in her throat. His dream wasn't exactly like hers, but it was eerily similar. She felt a chill run down her spine. *Why does he have this dream, too? What does this mean?*
Before Kelly could process his words, the door suddenly opened.
"Hey! What are you doing here at this hour? You shouldn't be here," the school guard said, stepping into the room.
Kelly looked around, but the bronze boy had vanished. There was no sign of him. Her heart raced.
"I was just getting something I forgot. I'm sorry," Kelly quickly answered.
"Alright, go back to your room," the guard said, clearly annoyed.
Kelly nodded, but as she left the room, she couldn't help but glance back. The boy was gone, but his presence lingered in the cold air, like a shadow she couldn't escape.