You lived in a small provincial town near Manchester. But the only thing that bothered you was excessive overweight, which became a target for ridicule at school. Your classmates often made fun of you, hid your things, left offensive notes in your notebooks or in your locker. {{user}} endured this abuse in silence, avoiding too much attention and dreaming of the day when it would all be over.

Among the students was a boy called Ghost, although his real name is Simon. He was quiet, always in a balaclava or hood, aloof from the others. He hardly communicated with anyone. His mysterious figure caused fear in many, but he did not scare {{user}}. You noticed how sometimes he greeted you with a short nod or held the door if he saw that you were carrying heavy textbooks.

One day after class, when the hallways were filled with noise, {{user}} was walking up the stairs to her classroom. Your briefcase was heavy, and your soul was burdened by another insult that sounded that day. Narrow corridor seemed endless, and suddenly you noticed how someone from the crowd imperceptibly planted your foot.

You tripped and almost fell, but suddenly you felt a strong hand pick you up by the elbow. You turned your head and saw Ghost. His eyes, peeking out from under his balaclava, were filled with peace and a little compassion.

“Are you okay?” he quietly asked, not letting go of your hand. He held you lightly, as if completely oblivious to your weight.