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changing times for the reoccurrence of violent crimes on campus. Most of the students ignored him, but Emily moved closer so she could hear what he was saying. He recalled how everything was perfectly fine in the library until one fateful moment in the past.
    “I've kept silent for years,” he said, “but I did not see anything . ” He repeated that a few times until someone came and called his name out loud. 
    “Mr. Mitchell. Mr. Mitchell,” Rick called out.
    He looked up slowing. “Could it be?” he whispered. “Did you find anyone?” he asked quietly.
    “No one, Mr. Mitchell,” the student answered. “There’s no one in here now, but are you sure that you didn’t see anyone coming through here earlier?” Rick asked.
    “I am old, but I can see. I saw no one coming in or going out!” he gruffly replied.
    Emily was at the front desk by then and followed the conversation between her classmate, Rick, and Mr. Mitchell.
    Is he hiding something ? Emily asked herself.
    She knew Mr. Mitchell for the past year, but did not find anything wrong or creepy about him. She had visited the library on a regular basis over the past year and was particularly fond of the old librarian. He didn’t talk that much and most of the time looked too tense to be a threat to anyone.
    That’s just how some people are , she told herself.
    However, it was not the same for her classmates or a few others in the university. Some people claimed that they saw Mr. Mitchell talking to himself. For someone his age, that wasn’t so hard to imagine. In the past, Emily never paid much heed towards the stories regarding Mr. Mitchell. However, she was forced to admit that he had been in the same profession for all his working life. His occupation often required him to sit in silence, except when dealing with requests from his assistants and students. So, she thought that he was entitled to a few bouts of absurdity and random moments of age-induced insanity.
    Emily believed that all human psychology couldn’t be determined by one single behavioral pattern. There were things people did and events that people were subjected to that could only be explained through years of study and research. Forming a judgment or conclusion about a person too hastily was a great disservice to the wide range and depth of human experience. 
    However, even Emily couldn’t overlook Mr. Mitchell’s strange behavior today. She was sure that he looked nervous, and not entirely because of his old age either. She wanted to ask him more, but the arrival of new teachers took the opportunity away from her. One new teacher, Mr. Roberts, entered in followed by Mr. Paisley. There was a meeting convening soon for all the new staff members at the university. Slowly, the library was being cleared out and it was concluded that Megan must have tripped and fell. Seeing someone was just dismissed as her delusion. After everyone left the library, nobody talked about or discussed the incident on the fourth floor of the infamous Fletcher building. Emily, however, decided to reach the end of it. She refused to believe that the occurrence of a similar event as she experienced her first year could just be a coincidence. It even happened in the same place and in a similar fashion. As Emily walked out of the library, she gave one last glace at the empty benches and Mr. Mitchell. He stood motionless, staring at the old clock on the wall just behind the benches. Emily followed his gaze up to the wall and noticed that the hands of the clock were stuck at 12:00.
    After two more classes, the first day of the final year was concluded. The classes for the day were done and most of the students headed over to the campus union to eat and socialize. Grace and Emily were both tired from the long day and agreed to head back to their dorm room. The walk back to the student lodging was long and Emily kept quiet for most of it. In fact, when Grace proposed to go inside, Emily opted to go for a walk