She sees a girl upon the wall. Not just any girl, but a goth type girl, holding a knife and long black hair to match the black clothes. She tries to convince herself that it’s just an illusion. She looks away at some of her favorite shapes: the monkeys playing with each other, the lonely girl holding her knees, the couple arguing. She looks back out of the corner of her eye. The girl is still there. Still holding the knife dripping. Except the drip is harmless, just water. She eyes it cautiously, afraid of it to just come out at her. She shakes her head. It’s just an illusion. Just another shape in the slate wall. She probably won’t even notice it tomorrow.