You find yourself at that railroad crossing. The arms come down and the lights begin flashing, but you don't see or hear them. A train passes by, and you see her appear on the other side. The train is gone now, and only the cicadas' ringing sound litters the summer landscape. She has no shadow, but she is there. She does not speak, but you can hear her and only her, at all times. The girl, your friend, who threw herself into the tracks because of your bullying.