Under the door, I was able to see a pair of black Vans sneakers six feet away from me. The shins of those who wore them were white, stained by threads of blood that ran down until they were lost in the cotton of the white socks. Beside the Vans, a puddle of water was forming, thick white foam around the edges. What had once been a student appeared to be completely still. I didn’t know if I was looking at anything, or even if I was able to hold his attention on anything. Whatever that answer was, just the realization that I could only see the back of the shoes—which meant they weren’t facing me—was enough. In my field of vision, it was not possible to see anything else.

I dared to wonder why I’d stopped her eating her friend, but just thinking about it almost drove me crazy.

Still carefully, I got to my feet. The operation would have to be careful, but I figured I’d be able to make minimal noise. May God allow that to be enough.

In slow motion, I started to climb into the tank, one leg at a time, hearing the china creaking under my weight. I splayed my hands on the icy tiles of the wall, trying to get most of my weight on only them. Every millimeter movement I made allowed me to feel the instability of the tank. My entire body—my armpits, especially—went damp as my nervousness increased.

When I started to rise to my feet, I was cautious before I got completely straight. I could see, over the wooden door, that Sarah really had her back to me, staring at the small window high up in the wall, allowing me to see only her long brown hair. The sound coming from outside seemed to keep her properly interested. I couldn’t see his face, and I was grateful that I didn’t have to see those misshapen red eyes again.

From the height I was, I looked around me and it took a lot of strength not to give up immediately: near the door, the lifeless body, with the mutilated face, was stretched out on the floor. I wanted to avoid looking, but it was inevitable: he was so close to the door that it would be impossible not to have to drag him to the side to get through. A growing pool of blood formed around the corpse.

Surely the only reason I didn’t throw up was because there was nothing left in my stomach.

I couldn’t say how much time I had, but from the moment I found the courage to sneak out of the bathroom, my agony grew with every second I spent inside that stall. At one point, I didn’t care what horrors I would have to face the moment I crossed the door that would separate me from that bathroom. The idea of staying there forever was the only impulse I needed to start moving toward freedom.

It didn’t take much thought to figure out that the best escape route would be avoiding going out the cabin door and running into the monster that was waiting to devour my flesh. As I had done once before, I figured that going through the top of each cubicle, trying to make as little noise as possible, would be the only way to ensure a safe escape. Even though the space to sneak my body left between the end of the partition walls and the ceiling was narrow, I was sure I could get around there.

Creating the plan was easy, putting it into practice soon proved to be another story. The first time I jumped from one booth to the next, I didn’t have to worry about being loud or gentle; I could only follow my desperate instinct. This time, I immediately felt the difficulty of holding my body weight for a long time, as I moved to avoid any noise. I braced my foot on the wall and took a slight push that helped me get my other leg around the partition, allowing me to sit on it, one leg to either side. I found myself gasping for just that small effort: thanks to the slowness of the movements I had to execute, I had to hold my own weight for a long time.

Sitting on the partition, I got a good look at the monster girl who had her back to me. My movement had not caught his attention, as he kept his eyes turned towards the small bathroom window. For the first time, I hesitated before an astonishing idea: did that being have a will of its own? Could it just move and turn towards me, even if there was no stimulus?

Already surprised to have found the courage to get there, I decided to try to be quick. It was all too easy as I was sure the monster didn’t see me, but I didn’t want to find out if I’d have the strength to go on if he became aware of my presence.

I stretched my arms until I reached the top of the next partition wall and found support. I positioned my legs so that I was on my knees and “crawled” from one partition to another. I felt the discomfort of my shin against the concrete, but I tried to abstract it. Under a little pain, I managed to make the first crossing, ending up sitting in my starting position, with a feather to each side and my back bent over because of the height of the ceiling.

There were six bathroom stalls, and now I was on the divider between the second and the third, counting from where I left. I would need to repeat that move three more times until I got to a position where I believed I could jump out of the door before the thing had any reaction. I didn’t dare think if when I got to the end, I’d have the courage to actually do it.

I took a deep breath and repeated the movements, being careful not to rush and keeping my eyes on the back of what had once been a student at the same school as me. If I were told it took me 10 minutes, I would believe it as blindly as I would believe it took just 10 seconds. Adrenaline was present again, not only helping me find the strength to do it, but also soaking my palms and making my heart flutter. I was no longer able to distinguish whether they were the normal beats of a nervous person or whether they had progressed to a tachycardia. But I knew how to say it hurt.

When I finally positioned myself on top of the next partition, I looked away for the first time from the zombie in front of me and looked at the cabin below me. I felt my heart stop as an icy shiver went through my spine, freezing my body in complete terror. Involuntary drops of urine flowed. Not bothering to throw all my previous effort in the trash, I pulled my leg up quickly, almost hard enough to throw myself off balance.

A few feet away from me, in the next cubicle, was another student. The one who, unable to escape after being attacked, locked herself in the bathroom. I cursed myself for forgetting his presence in such an idiotic way.

The only reason I was still alive is that the girl in that booth was on the floor, sitting on her knees, her weight leaning against the wall, her blond hair tangled up. He stared at the wooden door in front of her. My leg hadn’t entered his field of vision and caught his attention. A new wave of nausea washed over me as I figured the reason I was this way was that the girl must have died in that position. I realized that it was already becoming easier for me to push that monstrous figure away from the human being he once was. I couldn’t reflect on whether I was right to divide them in this way.

Moving from that partition to the next made me even more tense, taking double care to avoid any noise. If anything went wrong, my reaper would be right below me. I could see that, even reducing the noise to a minimum, my shadow was still present, passing over the head of that being, who didn’t seem to care. Were their visions perfect, as they were as human beings? What would their senses be like?

Would there be a need to worry so much?