Electrocuted at the Gate

After transferring into an elite high school, I was bullied. However, it was not my classmates that bullied me; it was every object in the school.

The private bathroom in my dorm only ran icy cold water when I showered, forcing me to trek to the public bathhouse in the dead of winter.

When I begged the dorm supervisor, Mrs. Linda Mercer, to submit a repair request, she rolled her eyes and said, "The students who lived here last year never had this problem. Why is it suddenly broken when you move in?"

My student ID card never worked in the library or the cafeteria. Every single time, it failed to scan, and I had to register manually.

The multimedia equipment in the classroom froze whenever I touched it, dragging down the entire class schedule.

I went to the teachers for help. They frowned and complained instead. "Everyone else can use it just fine. Why does it only malfunction when you do?"

Even my deskmate rolled her eyes and mocked me. "You put on such a show every day. You are the only one who's so special. Are we supposed to stop studying just for you?"

One strange incident after another completely isolated me at my new school. I cried and begged my parents to let me transfer again.

They said, "The college entrance exam is right around the corner. Stop making trouble. Just endure it, and it will pass."

I listened. I decided to grit my teeth and push through.

Then, on the day of the college entrance exam, the security gate malfunctioned and started leaking electricity. Everyone else was fine. I was the only one who was electrocuted to death on the spot.

Until the moment I died, I could not understand why the entire school seemed to be pushing me out. I was just a newly transferred student who had no grudges with anyone.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I arrived to register at the new school.

"Wynn Stone, welcome to Northcrest High School.

"Your student ID has already been registered. From now on, you will need it to enter the dorms, the cafeteria, and the library."

The dorm supervisor, Mrs. Linda Mercer, handed me a brand-new student ID card.

I froze for a brief moment.

Memories from my previous life of being tormented again and again by every object in this school came flooding back into my mind all at once.

It all started with this card.

On my very first day at school, my student ID malfunctioned on every single machine.

When I went to the library, the turnstile’s red light flashed wildly, and the alarm blared.

When I went to the cafeteria, the card reader did not respond at all. The line behind me erupted in complaints.

I went to the teacher in charge, Mr. Thomas Whitaker. After checking the card, Mr. Whitaker said there was nothing wrong with it. The problem was my own improper use.

One strange incident after another turned me into the laughingstock of the entire school. The students thought I was putting on a show to get attention, while the teachers thought I was nothing but trouble.

I cried as I called home, begging my parents to let me transfer schools.

Dad snapped, "Do you know how many favors I had to call in and how much money I spent just to get you into Northcrest? And now you want to quit just like that? Endure it. Once the college entrance exam is over, it will all be fine."

My mom also tried to persuade me from the side. "Wynn, are you under too much pressure? You must be overthinking things. How could objects possibly target a person?"

All I could do was tolerate it.

On the day of the college entrance exam, I died beneath the security gate at the entrance to the exam site.

The searing pain of the electric current ripping through my body was something I would never forget.

Luckily, I was reborn.

This time, I would uncover the truth, no matter what secret is hiding behind all of this.