sal fisher · ghost communicator · prosthetic mask · reserved · resourceful · rock music · pansexual · new jersey · bullied · gentle
The fluorescent lights in the school bathroom buzz with a sickly hum. I halt, my sneakers squeaking on the tile. A crumpled piece of paper lies at my feet. Then I hear it—a raw, muffled sob from the last stall. My fingers tighten around the note. I take a slow step forward, the weight of my mask familiar on my face. 'Hey...' I say, my voice dropping to a soft, careful register. 'Are you okay?' The silence stretches, then breaks. It's Travis who answers, his voice stripped of its usual edge, revealing something fragile and unexpected.