I Became A Ghost In A Horror Game

I. I had good eyes. Not just in the sense of having good eyesight, but also in the sense of being quick to catch on.

"Did you finish all your homework?"

"Yes. Because I'm a good kid."

"That's right. Solving problems is like hitting a target with an arrow. You need to know how to solve them accurately."

So, I was quick to pick up on what my parents expected of me.

They wanted me to be a good kid.

So, I quickly learned what they taught me and lived as a good kid who never did anything bad.

But the day came when I realized that what my parents wanted wasn't just a good kid, but a perfect kid.

It was on my way to school one day.

I felt anxious inside, thinking they shouldn't be doing that.

A good kid follows the rules. It seems they couldn't do that.

I couldn't stand still.

Bad kids get scolded, after all.

"Hey, you. What are you staring at?"

"Huh? Sorry. I zoned out."

"Whatever. Anyway, we're going to hang out with our classmates. What about you?"

"Um... Sorry, I don't think I can go..."

"Why not? Tell me a good time. We'll adjust for you."

"Um... After school, I go to cram school and get home by eight, then go straight to the study room to solve language problems until ten, then bedtime... And my playtime is fixed at one hour on weekends..."

"Enough! Urgh, how do you live like that?"

"Huh? Is that so...?"

As we talked, the light turned green, and I raised my hand to cross the crosswalk.

Step by step, carefully.

When I was close to the school gate, I saw an old man groaning and moving something in a corner.

"A good person helps others." I thought.

I sent my friend ahead and helped the old man move his stuff.

But because I spent time helping, I ended up being slightly late.

It was expected, but I still felt regret.

Surprisingly, since I was rarely late, I didn't get scolded.

First period was ethics class.

It was a time to learn obvious facts.

I listened intently to the ethics class to become a good kid.

The stories in ethics class were always the same.

Forgive others for their wrongdoings, do good, and everything will be resolved.

All of this presupposes enduring well.

My parents always said that everything should be resolved properly.

So, I suppressed what I wanted to do and aimed to be a good kid.

After class, during break time.

I got up from my seat to go to the bathroom.

As I passed through the hallway, I heard a loud noise.

A boy was being bullied by other boys.

He was being hit with fists.

I couldn't stand still and immediately ran over and said,

"Stop it. You're hurting him."@@novelbin@@

According to what I learned in ethics class, they should have stopped the violence when I asked.

But they didn't.

They were much worse kids than I expected and even pushed me away.

I couldn't understand it. But to be good, I had to endure.

As I stubbornly clung on, they tried to do something rougher, but the bell rang, and they returned to their classes.

On the way home, the boy I helped came to thank me.

"Thank you."

"I just did what I should."

I waited for the same traffic light and waited until it turned green.

Then, I saw my classmates going somewhere to hang out.

Actually. Actually, I too.

"I want to go play."

It's a secret, but I once asked my parents if I could go play with friends.

I just got scolded. Honestly, I didn't expect much.

Go to school. Review. Exercise. Sleep. Act as planned. Eat as planned. Sleep as planned. Endure and act kindly as taught.

Living such a routine, I suddenly saw on TV a case where a livestock farmer did something fraudulent and got caught.

A cow was shown eating feed.

For some reason, I thought it resembled me.

The next day at school, the boys who bullied that boy started bullying me.

They were infamous for being bad, so kids from other classes chose to watch rather than help.

I couldn't understand it.

But enduring was familiar.

Even if it was questionable, I did as I was told.

Even though I was bullied, it didn't particularly bother me.

The sad part was that since I went to the cram school every day, I didn't build many friendships, so I had no friends to stand by me in this situation. ℞âℕổВË𝘚

Silently, as usual. While enduring the bullying, a boy who was also being bullied said to me.

"I decided to just listen to them. They said they wouldn't bully me if I gave them money."

Something stirred in my heart then.

"Really? Then I'll do that too."

I couldn't understand it. But if just giving money would solve it.

It was incredibly simple.

I obediently gave money to the bullies.

My pride wasn't hurt, and I didn't feel bad.

I'm fine. I endure well.

But.

"Okay..."

When that boy complied with the bullies and handed over money.

For some reason, I couldn't endure it.

I felt my vision blur.

When I came to my senses, I was enraged.

"Haa... Haa... Haa...!"

There was blood on my hands. I stabbed their shoulders and arms with a mechanical pencil, and pulled it out roughly, leaving big wounds.

That day, I was called by my parents and scolded for hours.

"What is this!"

Only after being slapped did I realize that I had been unconsciously afraid of my parents.

I didn't want to report the problem either.

"But I learned that bullying is bad too."

Slap! My head turned again, and a scream shook my mind.

I knew that hurting them was wrong.

But the question still lingered.

If doing as the ethics book taught didn't solve it, shouldn't I do the same?

Even now, I've learned that violence is wrong, but I'm still being subjected to violence.

Persuading with words wouldn't have changed the outcome.

Right. What else can I do but give in to anger?

I know what answer my parents want.

Still.

"...I just wanted to help."

I kept making excuses based on ethics, but what they wanted was a good kid who solves problems properly and doesn't cause new ones.

Not a good kid.

After the scolding, at first, I was just dazed.

Then, anger boiled up.

Still, I tore apart a pig doll.

And quickly cooled down.

Right, let's admit it. I went too far.

Getting angry is bad.

Look, I even tore apart my precious pig doll.