A boy scrambled away from the girl's field of vision. He was almost caught by her, but as clumsy as the escape attempt was, it seemed to have worked. He was a natural at making no sound while moving, no matter how much he would stumble. Rather, it was impossible for him to make any sound. It was a wonder he wasn't so severely incorporeal that he would slosh through the ground into the core of the Earth and roast alive. He was almost out of time, trying to find a remedy for his predicament. No one could see or hear him clearly anymore, but merely sense his presence, as if there was a shadow in the room that shouldn't be there, cast by no object. Frankly, that was what he was: a shadow. A figure bordered by an outline which was filled with darkness. Had he always been this way? No.<br/><br/>Had he shouted something at the girl, all she would have heard would have been nothing but the sweet kiss of the wind. Had he stood in front of her, all she would have seen was a shape, if even that. Not that he wanted to do that. He was scared he would scare people away and further his punishment unwillingly. He was your ordinary high school student. Unlike all the other students, however, this boy craved attention and got some by tormenting his fellow classmates. His appetite for attention was voracious. Not once did he think of the feelings of the tormented, nor did he think that his actions might have consequences. Having undergone every form of school punishment allowed in present day, his craving was unstoppable as he gradually adapted to the punishments and stopped caring about them.<br/><br/>One day he woke up feeling emptier, darker and more transparent than usual, literally. However, his craving for attention hadn't subsided one bit. However, at school, most seemed to not notice him. This escalated day after day by getting less and less attention from other people. This was not due to people wanting to ignore this bully, but rather because they didn't have to. He searched for help and found out that the only way he would be the same again, he needed to gather attention again from people around him. As he tried to find out how exactly to do that, he could no longer touch his computer. His hand sloshed through his keyboard and the desk holding it. He looked in the mirror and found that his face was barely recognizable and that it was merely a simplified shape of what it once was.<br/><br/>Now here he was, with people who didn't know him beforehand as his final hope. He would have cried, if it were possible for him. Refusing to accept his fiery fate, he wanted to come to someone without being ignored as usual to get help for his situation before it would be too late. He pushed himself to move where the girl had been just now, but she was gone. From there, he simply moved towards an opening where he used to look at stars with his father as a little kid.