Myrtle was alone. She deeply breathed in and shook as she exhaled. After running through the castle, she ended up at the girl's restroom on the first floor. She sharply inhaled after hearing a voice.
"Where did she go?" A female voice shouted.
"This way!" Another voice shouted. The sound of running footsteps echoed as they became quieter.
Myrtle released the breath she was holding. Shaking, she stood up and looked into a mirror. Tears ran down her face as she remembered why she was in the room.
Olive Hornby had cornered Myrtle, once again, in a hallway.
"Those glasses won't make any boys like you, Myrtle." Olive smirked.
Myrtle cried and ran. Olive gave chase, calling for her friends to join in. She felt ugly. Olive was right. Nobody would ever like stupid, ugly Myrtle. She continued to run until she could not hear their voices.
She stood up and stumbled into a stall, still crying.
'Why did people have to be so mean? She knew she wasn't as pretty as the other girls. That wasn't a reason to be so mean to her.' Myrtle thought. She sat on the lid of the toilet seat and stared at her trembling hands.
She heard the restroom door open. Light, careful footsteps echoed off the walls. The door shut as quickly as it opened. Myrtle froze on her seat. The room started getting colder. She heard the footsteps from earlier pace around the room.
Myrtle was trying not to make noise. She was still upset from Olive's comments from earlier. A sniffle escaped her and the footsteps stopped, right in front of the stall she was in.
A harsh hissing filled the room. She didn't know what or who it was, but she knew that it was not good. The sound of something sliding along the floor caught her attention. She held her breath as it got closer.
Myrtle wanted to scream, shout, or cry out for help. She opened her mouth to one of those things, but stopped. Would anybody really care if she was brutally murdered by whatever was slithering around? Would anybody even notice if was gone?
When she looked up after these thoughts, it was already too late. Blazing yellow eyes were the last thing she saw before everything turned to darkness.
Myrtle looked down at her body. Her dark brown hair was spread around her head from when her body fell off the toilet seat. Her eyes were wide open with shock. Swallowing heavily, she leaned down from where she stood and tried to close her body's eyes, but her hands went right through her head. A shudder went through her ghost body. She grimaced at her body and exited the stall. She gasped at the sight before her.
Tom Riddle, a Slytherin, was leaning against a wall looking at a ginormous snake. He looked to be communicating with it in a series of hisses. Myrtle froze, and went into a different stall. She couldn't look at her body again.
She sat in the stall for what seemed like hours. Tears ran down her face as she thought about what happened. No one would care that she was gone. She pulled her knees up to her chest and thought some more.
She was alone. She would be alone for a long time. Myrtle wasn't sure how long, but guessed she would be around here forever.
"I can't believe Professor Dippet wanted me to check on her. She's probably crying again. Stupid Myrtle." Myrtle heard Olive's voice. Myrtle glared at the inside of the stall door, deciding what to do next.
Light, soft footsteps entered the room.
"Myrtle? Where are you? I'm not dealing with this right now." Olive's voice called out, bored. Myrtle sneered at the door and stood up. She was going to get snobby Olive Hornby back. She crept out of the stall to see Olive staring at Myrtle's body, her hands covering her mouth.
"Oh my god. She's dead." Myrtle stood right behind Olive, arms crossed.
"Yes. She is, isn't she?" Myrtle whispered into Olive's ear. Olive jumped and fell back. Olive's eyes were wide as she processed the information.
Myrtle started shrieking at Olive. She yelled everything. Every insult she took, every poke and jab, every single thing Olive bullied her about. Myrtle wanted to curse Olive to give her those same flaws.
By the time she controlled herself and stopped shouting, Olive had gone.
Myrtle breathed heavily and sunk to the floor. Was she already going crazy? It had only been a few hours since her death, right?
A few decades later…
Myrtle sighed after screeching at another disrespectful first year. She sat down in her stall and waited for the next student to come in. She was incredibly bored. Sure, she could journey around, but everyone was so rude.
"Hermione? Why are we in the girl's restroom?" A boy's voice echoed through the room.
Myrtle peeked through the stall door to see a girl with bushy brown hair, a boy with orange hair and freckles, and a boy with black hair and a lightning scar.
The girl who Myrtle guessed was Hermione, set down a cauldron.
"Because, Ronald, no one comes in here. This is Moaning Myrtle's bathroom." Hermione said haughtily. Myrtle was taken aback. She cried sometimes, but she was dead and had the right. She began to push the door open to scare the trio out, but stopped.
"Who is Moaning Myrtle? Why do people call her that?" The boy with the scar said.
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Don't any of you read? Harry, Moaning Myrtle was murdered in here many decades ago from some sort of monster in the school."
The black haired boy, Harry, frowned at being called illiterate, but nodded at the new information.
The trio was making a potion. It looked like Polyjuice to Myrtle, but she wasn't close enough to see. Harry looked around the room at his eyes ended up halting at her form. Myrtle stayed expressionless to see what he did next.
To her surprise, Harry sent a small smile at Myrtle, then turned back to the potion. Myrtle internally smiled.
Perhaps, she wouldn't be alone anymore.