West: The Sun From Another Star

"Wow, it's so beautiful!"

 

"That's normal."

 

"Oh, why is this room so stuffy? Open the window a little, there's a window, but you don't open it." Jo's wife walked around the room because he said he wanted to see my room. But that's fine, if he wants to see it, let him. He even casually pulled back the curtains in my room.

 

"I just moved in."

 

"Why is it so dark? Is there a dead animal in here, sir?"

 

"Even in such a difficult situation, I'm still doing fine."

 

"Really? Hmm, what does it usually eat?"

 

"I'm going to buy some meat for it, like chicken," I replied, referring to the snake. I keep a snake in a glass cage, a pale yellow, glossy snake.

 

"How much does it cost?"

 

"It's around two or three hundred thousand baht. This type of scale is rare, so the price is very high."

 

"What if it crawls out and falls out?"

 

"Then I'm doomed."

 

"Are you really living alone on the entire floor?"

 

"Yeah, why? But your friend is already coming to live with us, isn't he?"

 

"Yes, there are two of them on the whole floor. Please take good care of my friend."

 

"What's going on now?"

 

"Do you know anything about the room next door? I heard it's really scary. Did you encounter anything?"

 

"Hmm..." I sighed in frustration, thinking about the room next door. "I encounter them every night, it's really annoying. Tell your friend to tell them to stop dragging the tables and chairs away. I can't sleep."

 

"Really?"

 

“…” North was silent for a moment, then took a deep breath as if trying to calm himself down, “Wait a minute, brother? Meeting every night? My friend there won’t die, will he?”

 

"If your friend is so scared, why did he move here?"

 

"But he told me he wasn't scared!"

 

"It's good that you're not scared. But why did your friend move in here? I thought I'd be living here alone until I finished school," I said, because ever since the ghost started scaring people every night, everyone on the floor had moved out, leaving only me behind because I was too lazy to move elsewhere. Besides, Mr Pe – the landlord – even gave me a fifty per cent discount on the rent.

 

"The landlord reduced the price by seventy per cent, that's why my friend agreed to move in."

 

"Seventy? Why did you get a bigger discount than I?"

 

"Well, he's in the room next door. If you want to lose even more weight, just move into that room."

 

"I'm too lazy to pack. Never mind, just go outside, I want to sleep."

 

"Why are you planning to sleep at this hour? It's still early."

 

"I want to sleep, get out. Remember to close the door."

 

"Yeah, wanna play games tonight?"

 

"Yeah, let me get up first, and then we'll figure it out."

 

"Yes, sir," North said, then walked out of my room, not forgetting to close the door. Hopefully, North's new friend wouldn't make any noise. The crying, laughing, dragging furniture, and things falling from the next room each night were already enough.

If you ask why I don't move?

 

Well, it's because I'm too lazy to pack. I have an incredible amount of stuff. Why should I move? They should be the ones moving; they're just a nuisance. I've scolded them over and over, but they're still bothering me. Exhausted after a stressful day of studying, I drifted off to sleep without realising it.

 

════[changbins_delulu_wife]════

 

I collapsed onto the bed, feeling utterly exhausted after hours of unpacking. Looking around the room, I realised it was really nice. Everything in the apartment had been completely replaced by the landlord, from the sofa and mattress to the bathroom fixtures. The room was also spacious, so I could comfortably fit a lot of things. As soon as I remembered something, I took out my phone and made a call.

 

(Hello, have you moved your things into your new room yet?)

"Dad, are you free to bring Uncle John over to help me out for a bit?"

 

(Dad's always busy, maybe next week?)

"Yes."

 

(You're not moving into any weird room, are you? The room looks so cheap, I'm not at all comfortable.)

"Dad, don't worry too much. Can I talk to Uncle for a bit?"

 

(Hey, I want to talk.)

(When are you coming home?) A deep voice with a familiar, perfect English accent came from the other end of the line. I replied in English.

 

"You just got home, Dad, please take a picture of Uncle John and send it to me."

(Okay, how's the new room?)

 

"It's very spacious and comfortable."

(Okay, I'll come visit when I have some free time.)

 

Okay, that's all then.

(Okay.)

 

Then I hung up. The people I had just spoken to were my father and uncle, meaning I have two fathers. My biological father is my biological father, and my uncle is my husband. My father is British, and they got married there. Later, my father moved to Thailand to live with his new wife. The three of us live together, and we're very happy. My mother has also remarried.

 

Hmm, I'm too lazy to talk about my family, never mind.

 

I moved to this new, more spacious room because of Jon. Jon is a black cat, blind in one eye. I met him at my old dorm and decided to bring him home. Since that day, my life has become more meaningful, as if I've found my lost half. I worked hard to move rooms so that John could live with me. I looked at the clock; it was past seven in the evening. Sitting at my desk, I turned on the lamp, powered on my tablet, mouse, and stylus, and began working.

 

Time passed until almost four in the morning. I got up, stretched lazily, and decided to take a shower. Looking at the bracelet in my hand hesitantly, I still wasn't quite ready for the meeting.

 

I'm different from the average person, something I can't quite put my finger on. I sense strange energies that others can't perceive. The same goes for other people's bothersome emotions. For example, if someone is sad or angry today, I'll feel it spreading and overwhelming me. If they're sad, I'll feel sad too. It's quite annoying.

 

But sensitive things like other people's emotions require a lot of concentration, so I don't have a problem with it. Because I don't need to concentrate to read someone's emotions, except for a few friends I'm really worried about, like sensing my cat's emotions, for example.

The bracelet my grandmother gave me suppresses my senses, preventing me from seeing or feeling those strange energies. I'm not afraid, but seeing or feeling them isn't pleasant either. While not an intense feeling, seeing or feeling them is still unsettling. Finally, I decided to take the bracelet off, and immediately, a suffocating feeling overwhelmed me.

Um...

 

"Let's talk for a bit," I said in the empty room. But I didn't feel empty at all. I still couldn't see anything, I don't know why, but I didn't want to see anything either. "I'm the one paying the rent for this room."

 

"Therefore, I am the owner of this room. You can see that in the contract. Consequently, you have no rights whatsoever in this room. If possible, please leave."

 

Certainly, no reply was heard.

But that feeling grew stronger and stronger, as if it were making someone angry…

Why get angry? I'm just stating the truth.

That's exactly the annoying feeling.

 

I took off my clothes to get ready for a shower and stepped into the bathroom, where the floor was strangely soaked. How could it be wet? I hadn't been in the bathroom since I got here.

 

"What a waste of water! Next time, remember to get water from somewhere else," I said, then went to turn on the shower. The sound of the water and the warm steam touching my skin made me feel a little better. After a while, the bathroom lights started flickering. I sighed again, trying not to mind, and continued showering. Finally, the bathroom lights went out completely. I dried myself off and stepped out of the bathroom.

Locked?

From the outside.

“…”

 

First question… why is the ghost holding me captive in the bathroom?

Second question… how am I going to get out? My head is soaking wet; I'd be terrible if I caught a cold.

"Open the door!"

 

“…”

"Can you stop being so stubborn?"

 

"Just explain it to him, don't make things difficult. I have so many sins piled up."

“…Sob sob, huhu…”

I heard crying coming from behind me. I turned around but couldn't see anything because it was too dark. I remembered that a girl had been murdered in the bathtub, so I focused my gaze on the bathtub. After a while, my eyes adjusted to the darkness, allowing me to see a blurry silhouette.

 

"Are you naked?"

"Sob sob, huhu..."

 

“I’m naked too. Women and men shouldn’t be naked together in the bathroom, right? I’ll close my eyes then.” I slowly closed my eyes as I said, wrapping the towel tightly around myself to make sure the girl couldn’t see me, “Are you the one who locked me in?”

 

"Sob sob, huhu..."

 

"We'll talk later. It's too cold right now. Can I take my laptop into the bathroom to work? Is that okay?"

 

“Sob sob, huhu…” The crying grew louder, and I frowned, not understanding what she wanted. If she didn’t want to talk, why lock me in the bathroom? Before I could think any further, I heard the bathroom door lock being opened.

 

"Come on, do you actually want someone to talk to?"

 

"Huhu... sob sob... huhu..."

 

“Okay, you can wash your face now. I’ll let you use the sink, but be careful not to get your eyes swollen.” I said before opening the door and stepping out. But why could the ghost in the bathroom lock the door from the outside? Did it go through the wall to lock it and then come back in? How strange.

 

I quickly changed clothes and dried my hair, then put the bracelet back on and continued working. The bracelet's advantage was that it made me feel nothing, yet I felt like a normal person. This meant that even things so powerful that a normal person could sense them, I could still sense them while wearing the bracelet.

 

I worked continuously until I forgot to look at the time, as usual, since it wasn't time for the start of the semester yet, so I could work late. When the design was finished, I immediately sent it to the client for review. He sent it back and told me where to make corrections, and I tried to adjust it according to his requirements.

 

"Damn, it needs to be a little smaller."

 

"A little smaller."

 

"Well, if it were any smaller, you wouldn't be able to see it."

 

"Really? If you adjust it any more, it won't stand out. And you want more shadows? Well, but it's evening, is it even possible to add shadows? Why didn't you just say it was midday? There's no light at all at night."

 

I mumbled to myself. Since I was little, I've had the habit of talking to myself because I didn't have many friends, and it became a routine. If I didn't talk to myself, I couldn't concentrate.

 

And one more important thing is:

"What should we do now?"

"Let's adjust the position."

 

“Hmm, that’s a good idea,” I said, then turned to look at the person who had just appeared beside me. It was a girl about my age, with short, slightly curly brown hair. Her eyes were straw-yellow. She was wearing a patterned white dress and held an old teddy bear in her left hand. She smiled at me in a friendly way.

 

Emma…

...Do you think Emma is a ghost? Emma is my imaginary friend from childhood.

 

People often create imaginary friends to play with, right? I don't know why Emma didn't disappear when I grew up. Maybe it's because even as I grew older, I didn't have many friends. But it wasn't so bad; I could talk to Emma, ​​and I didn't feel lonely. Emma also didn't tell anyone about my story.

 

'Michael.'

"What?"

 

'Emma likes her new room, but she doesn't feel quite right about it.'

 

"Really? Well, our friend said the same thing."

 

'North looked adorable in her black outfit today. Emma is a fan of North, but probably can't bring herself to say it.'

 

Oh, right, Emma calls me Michael because I was often teased about my name, which sounded like a falling star, and it sounded like a girl's name, so I was called "gay" since kindergarten. Because I felt bothered, when I started elementary school, I told everyone my name was Michael, but when I got to middle school, I realised that was the name my dad had given me. There's no need to worry about it. My name is my name. I have no problem with it, and no one else should either.

 

Except for North, because North has a problem with my name, but I can still forgive him.

So, if you don't like the name Daotok, you can call me Michael instead.

 

'Is North close to the person in the next room? Why is he staying there for so long?'

 

"I don't know, they're friends of North's boyfriend."

 

North's boyfriend's friend? They make a perfect couple.

 

"Yeah, Emma, ​​be quiet for a moment, I'm trying to concentrate on my work."

 

"Okay, but you have to tell Donut to stop staring at Michael."

 

"Yeah," I replied indifferently. What Emma saw was just what I saw. Donut was the name of a guy in the Political Science department who was stabbed to death by his girlfriend while he was asleep. He'd been watching me work for a while now.

I was wearing my necklace, so why did I still feel his gaze linger on me?

 

"Emma."

 

"What's going on? Michael told me to be quiet, but he also called me. So what should I do?"

 

"Should we put some Buddhist bracelets around our necks?"

 

"That would be a good idea if it made Donut disappear."

 

"Okay," I said, then stood up from the table. I rummaged through my bag for the prayer beads and put them around my neck. I didn't know how much they could help, but it was better than nothing.

 

"Please, why haven't you left yet?"

 

I don't want to talk to him at all. To be honest, I'm angry. That guy, neither human nor ghost, is just incredibly rude.

 

"Get out of here!"

 

I was annoyed by the way that person, or rather the ghost, kept lingering around the room and making noise. Hearing the sounds he made, scratching on the walls, really prevented me from concentrating on my work.

 

"Can't you be quiet for a moment?" I whispered, trying to listen to the rain through my headphones, hoping it would help me escape this disturbance.

 

But even the sound of the rain wasn't enough to drown out that scratching sound. Every time it rang out, I felt as if something eerie was creeping into my mind. It felt like I wasn't alone in this room.

 

"I don't have time for this kind of joke," I yelled, even though I knew he couldn't hear me. But my anger was uncontrollable.

 

I decided to stand up, leave my desk, and walk toward him. I don't want to appear scared, but this harassment has truly driven me to the brink of losing my patience.

 

"Stop!" I yelled, trying to stay calm, but my voice seemed to blend in with the surrounding noise. He just stood there, showing no sign of stopping.

 

Frustrated, I decided to try a different approach. I walked closer, looked him straight in the eye, and asked, "What do you want? If you have something to say, please say it!"

 

I don't know if that ghost can hear and understand me, but I hope it will at least stop making noise. Everything has become too unpleasant and suffocating. But the knocking on the door continued relentlessly, strong and persistent, making it impossible for me to concentrate on my work. I sighed, wondering who could possibly be coming at this hour. Perhaps it was a mistake, or someone was drunk.

 

"Don't bother me," I whispered to myself, but my patience was wearing thin. The noise outside grew louder, as if the person knocking had no intention of stopping.

 

"What the hell is this?" I wondered, burying myself in work, as a surge of frustration washed over me. I leaned closer to my headphones, trying to drown out the noise with the sound of pouring rain. But nothing changed. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, I stood up and walked towards the door.

 

“Who’s there?” I asked, but there was no answer. The door was silent, as if no one was outside. I returned to my desk, trying not to think about what might be happening. But anxiety had begun to creep into my mind. I peeked through the peephole, but could only see the dim darkness outside.

 

'Could I be imagining things?' I wondered, but the knocking continued, creating a truly strange and unsettling feeling.

 

"Come on, don't scare me!" I scolded myself and turned back to the table, but curiosity and anxiety prevented me from sitting still.

"Maybe I should open the door and see."

 

…I pushed myself up from my chair when I couldn't stand the incessant knocking on the door any longer. There were no ideas for work, and the clients were hounding me. Damn it!

 

"Stop knocking!" I said in a low voice through the crack in the door, hoping someone outside could hear me.

 

"Open!"

 

"Don't open it. Stop knocking for a moment!"

 

"Open the door now!"

 

I was startled when the person on the other side knocked harder on the door.

 

"Don't be so angry, aren't you bored?"

 

"Being bored is just awful! I told you to open the door!"

 

"Why is it such a rude ghost?"

 

"What? Are you calling me a ghost again? I'm a person, the person in the room next to yours! Open the door!"

 

The other person's words surprised me. Oh, so it really was the person in the next room? I leaned over and peeked through the crack in the door, and it was indeed them. At first, I didn't want to look because I thought it was a ghost and didn't want to see. I slowly opened the door.

 

"What's wrong?"

 

"Tell Dount to stop pulling the chair back, man. I can't sleep."

 

“Donut?… Pulling a chair?” I was a little confused. If I were talking about Mr Donut, he wasn't pulling a chair; he was just scratching the wall. I turned around and saw him still there, his fingernails all scratched, blood dripping all over the walls and floor. Hopefully, it wasn't really a mess. I didn't want to have to clean it up. “It wasn't pulling a chair.”

 

"It's not you, it's that bastard in this room. Tell him to stop making those weird noises."

 

"Okay, let me tell them."

 

"Damn it, I can't even get a chance to sleep." He grumbled angrily, scratching his head irritably before returning to his room. I slowly closed the door, staring into the room in confusion.

 

Who pulled up the chair?

Why can't I see or hear anything?

 

I took off my bracelet because I wanted to know who had pulled up the chair at midnight, one in the morning, like this.

 

Who could it be?

 

What I found were only three bodies, but who was the woman hanging herself? She was wearing a worn-out, wrinkled student uniform, and she dragged a chair out onto the balcony to hang herself. Because there was nothing in the room to tie the rope to—no ceiling fan like in the dorm—only a clothesline on the balcony. She dragged the chair there, sobbed, tied the rope around her neck, and then kicked the chair to hang herself.

 

What people say about suicidal people having to repeat the act is true.

 

Hmm… How should I handle this situation?

...

"Okay, I guess I'll go buy some coffee first."

 

I left the room with Emma following behind, heading down to the 7-Eleven downstairs to buy coffee and some snacks to tide me over so I could work until morning. As I walked back up to my room, I pondered how to deal with the sound of the chair being dragged.

 

Ah... I see. If there were chairs there, they wouldn't need to pull them out anymore.

When I entered the room, I immediately placed a chair under the clothesline on the balcony so I didn't have to drag one anymore. Then, I put on my headphones and continued working. I didn't notice the sound of the chair being dragged because I wasn't paying attention, but Donut, who had been gnawing on his nails, had disappeared and was back lying on the bed as before.

 

I was startled again when I heard a loud thud as something fell from the balcony to the ground. I took off my headphones and immediately stood up to check, hoping that a gust of wind had blown my belongings down.

I looked out onto the balcony to check if anything was missing; nothing seemed to be gone. The woman who had hanged herself was also gone. I bent down to look at the balcony below; it looked like someone was lying there, covered in blood.

Did she fall off the balcony?

 

Ah… Ah, I read in the newspaper that a girl from the medical department jumped from a balcony to commit suicide. I thought so, and I told myself she might jump again, and sure enough, suddenly, out of nowhere, a woman came and stood beside me. She didn't look at me, wearing a dirty, blood-stained nightgown, her face drenched in tears, before falling right in front of me.

 

I bent down to look again and realised the corpse was lying in the same position as before. Okay… if I’m going to die, I don’t want to commit suicide anymore. Do they have to hang themselves or jump from buildings every day? How tiresome. I went back into the room and continued working, letting those responsible do their job. Around three in the morning, the noise stopped.

 

"The person in the restroom still hasn't stopped crying," Emma said, sitting next to me.

 

"Hmm, I guess they'll get tired and stop on their own after a while."

 

"I can't take a break yet, the work isn't finished."

 

Michael is so cold.

 

"Hmm."

"Alright."

 

I continued working until I felt my body couldn't take it anymore, so I stood up, stretched a little, and prepared to go to sleep. As soon as I lay down, I immediately felt cramped, probably because I was lying on top of someone who had died there.

Then I can move to the other side. I rolled over to one side but had to roll back because I couldn't sleep. I can lie on anyone, but I can't sleep unless I'm on the right side.

Because I was so sleepy, I quickly drifted off. While I was fast asleep in the early morning, I dreamed that Mr Donut was sitting on the empty side of the bed, looking at me, saying that he was very hungry and asking me for something to eat. And in my dream, I replied…

No money…