Zoe was an orphan; his parents had died in a car accident when he was just seven years old. They had Zoe when they were still quite young, so they hadn’t officially gotten married yet. They weren’t wealthy or overly concerned about registering their marriage or holding a wedding ceremony; instead, they focused on securing their future success.
Before Zoe's father passed away, he was an intern studying genetics at a university, while his mother was researching human psychology at the same school. They hadn’t officially graduated yet because they were still in the process of writing their theses. At that time, they were dating, talking about love, and living together as a married couple in a small house. A year later, Zoe was born. Although Zoe James's birth was unexpected, they were thrilled, seeing the child as a gift from God.
The joyful years they spent together were neither too short nor too long, but in the face of such a tremendous loss, it felt painfully brief. The accident struck unexpectedly on a cloudless sunny day, just like any other day of the year. In an instant, Zoe transformed from a blissfully happy child into an orphan, losing both parents.
For most people, holding just one photo of either their mother or father would be heart-wrenching enough. But for Zoe, a seven-year-old boy, carrying the photos of both of his beloved parents to the funeral home, with no relatives around, was an unimaginable burden. Strangely, though, Zoe did not shed a single tear; he merely sat and stared into the dark corner behind the two coffins, smiling.
Those who came to pay their respects saw the innocent smile on the child's face and felt heartbroken, thinking that he was too young to understand, assuming that seeing a crowd of people made him think something joyful was happening. But there were others who looked at Zoe with a mix of suspicion and malice, believing the child was possessed. How could a child whose parents both died simultaneously smile like that? It was unheard of. But for Zoe, what he saw were the two spirits standing behind the coffins, smiling and waving at him—his mother and father. This was also the first time Zoe saw and understood what a ghost was.
After the funeral, Zoe was taken to an orphanage, like so many other children without parents. Zoe’s parents had been meticulous about insurance, so when they passed away, they left behind a substantial sum of money for him. But because Zoe had no legal guardian, he wouldn’t be able to access the insurance money until he came of age. Nevertheless, the funds would be sufficient to cover his education until he grew up and became independent.
The orphanage was full of children, but Zoe was used to being alone. When his parents went to work, he had no choice but to play by himself. Zoe was introverted, didn’t talk much, and had a tendency to withdraw, avoiding crowds. He often snuck into the forest behind the orphanage to avoid being seen, to avoid hearing hurtful words. However, Zoe didn’t realize that the more he tried to avoid others, the more he became a target for bullying.
The old dormitory had many rooms, but only one bathroom on the second floor. All the children were afraid to go there because they had heard a story about a child’s ghost. The story was that a group of kids had bullied another child, dragging him into the bathroom and holding his head in the toilet until he suffocated. The child was around eight or nine years old when he died. The incident was said to have happened many years ago, over a decade ago, and the murder seemed to be real.
But the supervisors at the orphanage forbade anyone from mentioning it, and those who did would be punished by being made to stand alone in the bathroom. As a result, the children never talked about it during the day but would whisper about it after the lights were out.
Because of the ghost, it became a nightly routine for the children to go to the bathroom together before bed. If they had to go in the middle of the night, they would endure it until morning, no matter how bad it got, because no one dared to go alone. But if someone absolutely had to go in the middle of the night, the first person they would wake up to go with them was Zoe.
He was the easiest to bully, the easiest to drag out of bed, and, most importantly, he wasn’t afraid of ghosts. That’s why Zoe and the little friend in the bathroom, the one everyone was afraid of, became very close. That little friend’s name was Jill, and Jill was a ghost.
The first time Zoe met Jill was on a summer night. Hebe, the child who slept in the bed next to Zoe, suddenly had a stomachache. Hebe tossed and turned, unable to bear it any longer, and crawled over to Zoe’s bed, groaning.
“Zoe, please wake up, Zoe. I’m in so much pain… Zoe.”
Zoe groggily opened his eyes and asked, “What’s wrong?”
“My stomach hurts so much.”
Zoe sat up, “Let me go find some medicine.”
He started to get out of bed, but Hebe grabbed his hand, “No need, I want to go to the bathroom.”
Zoe immediately understood. It turned out Hebe woke him up just to have someone go to the bathroom with him. Of course, who else but him could be dragged out for that? Coward. Zoe shook his head in exasperation as he looked at Hebe, then saw the pleading look in Hebe’s eyes. Zoe couldn’t stand it anymore, so he nodded toward the door, signaling Hebe to hurry up before he wet himself. Hebe, relieved, held his stomach and rushed after him.
“Wait for me!”
The bathroom wasn’t far from the dormitory. After a short walk down the hallway, they arrived. Hebe dashed inside and shut the door, then peeked out to remind Zoe.
“Don’t leave without me. Wait for me here.”
Zoe nodded, bored, and stood outside looking at his reflection in the mirror. He sighed sleepily and turned on the faucet to wash his face. Afterward, he wiped his face with his sleeve and looked in the mirror, grinning and making faces to keep himself awake. Suddenly, he saw a clear white figure in the mirror. It was the image of a boy, smiling broadly and making faces, unaware that Zoe had seen him. Zoe froze but remained calm; this wasn’t the first time he had seen a ghost. In other places, at other times, he had seen many ghosts, some much scarier than this one, but he always pretended he hadn’t seen anything. This time was no different. The ghost stood behind Zoe, its image reflecting in the mirror, still smiling without realizing it had been noticed. Zoe, without turning around or showing fear, continued to look into the mirror.
Feigning sleepiness, Zoe turned his head and called out to Hebe, “Are you done yet? I’m really sleepy. If you don’t come out, I’m going back.”
“Don’t!” Hebe panicked, “I’m almost done.”
Zoe felt a shiver run down his spine as the ghost’s face pressed closer to his, close enough that if it moved a little, their faces would touch. Zoe remained still. This ghost was different from the others he had seen; it seemed suspicious, standing motionless, staring at Zoe as if trying to figure something out. Zoe knew this wouldn’t end well. Once a ghost realized someone could see it, it would latch onto that person, either out of loneliness, to have someone to talk to, or just to haunt and scare them to death. Zoe understood this, so he acted indifferent and calmly walked right through the ghost to the bathroom door.
“Hebe, if you don’t come out, I’m leaving.”
“Done, done!” Hebe hurriedly pulled up his pants and opened the door, stepping out with a relieved sigh. Zoe huffed and glared at Hebe before opening the bathroom door and stepping outside. Hebe followed closely behind, chattering happily.
But it wasn’t just Hebe who followed; something else also tagged along, making its way back to Zoe’s bed.
When Zoe and Hebe returned to the dormitory, the room was already enveloped in silence, with only the soft breaths of the sleeping children filling the air. Zoe sighed softly, hoping that he could sleep through the night without being disturbed again. He carefully climbed into bed and pulled the blanket up to his neck. Hebe curled up under his own blanket, eyes tightly shut, as if nothing had happened.
But not everything was as peaceful as it seemed.
Zoe sensed something was wrong—a cold, creeping feeling spreading through the room, making it impossible for him to relax and fall back asleep. He opened his eyes and looked into the dark corner of the room where the dim light from the window couldn't reach. In the shadows, he saw a small figure standing still, unmoving.
It was Jill.
Zoe wasn’t too surprised to see Jill there. From the moment he first saw Jill in the bathroom mirror, he knew he would encounter this ghost again. Jill, with the appearance of a child about eight or nine years old, short black hair hanging over his forehead, and empty, hollow eyes, just stood there, doing nothing.