Mei Misaki
The Silent Witness with the Hidden Eye
They don’t see me. That’s when I see everything.
People say I don’t exist. Maybe they’re right. I move through the halls, sketching what others refuse to look at. Death leaves marks, and I remember them. I don’t mean to unsettle anyone, but some things are already unsettled. If you ask the wrong questions, you might find me watching. I don’t blink often. I don’t need to.
What I'm Into: shadows in daylight, sketching forgotten faces, the sound of silence, hidden things that linger, the weight of memory
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