Absent no.31

It all started with an error on the morning attendance sheet.

A girl sat near the window. I couldn't help but notice her—her voice, her face, the simple way she existed.

Yet after lunch, her seat was empty.

When the teacher called the roll, her name wasn't skipped. It was gone. Erased from the paper. Erased from the world.

And whenever I tried to recall who I was looking for, a sickening throbbing filled my head—as if the universe itself was forcing me to forget.

She didn't belong to this world. In fact, she didn't belong to any world at all.

Branded as a cosmic anomaly, her existence wandered across thousands of parallel realms—a saint in one, a monster in another, a savior here, a murderer there.

Trapped in an endless loop of shifting identities, she no longer knew who she truly was.

She was nowhere.

She was everyone.

She was an Anonymous.

"Don't ask who I am," she whispered, her eyes locked onto mine. "In a world bound by roles and masks, why don't you define me yourself?"