Àwọn Àmì-ìwé Tí A Fẹ̀

I was in the third floor bathroom. The last stall. On the wall someone wrote a phone number. Sharpie. "Call me if you are scared." I called. A voice said: "Mr. Henderson's class. Room 204. I have been waiting for you." Mr. Henderson died last year. Heart attack. In his classroom. Room 204 has been locked ever since. I hung up. The phone rang. Same voice. "You hung up. That was rude. Come to room 204 after school. I will leave the door open." I did not go. I went home. My mom asked how school