在不少香港學校裡,洗手間的最後一格總有些說不出的古怪。有的長年上鎖,有的貼上「禁止使用」,但從沒人真正知道原因。學生之間流傳,那一格從來不是壞掉,而是不能被打開。
In many schools, there is always one stall that feels different. Sealed, avoided, or marked as unusable, yet never explained. Students whisper that it isn’t broken—it was never meant to be opened at all.
中文
幾乎每一間有歷史的學校,都會有一個類似的地方,不在走廊,不在課室,而是在最不起眼的洗手間裡,那一格通常在最入面,靠近牆角,門永遠關著,有時掛著「維修中」,有時乾脆貼上「禁止使用」,但奇怪的是,沒有人真的見過它被維修,也沒有人記得它曾經開過,學生之間總會有人試過走近,輕輕推一下門,發現不是上鎖的那種阻力,而像是裡面有什麼頂住,門會微微震動,但就是推不開,有人試過從門縫往內看,裡面卻比想像中更暗,像光線被吞掉一樣,看不到正常應該看到的馬桶或牆壁,有人說那只是燈壞了,但奇怪的是,其他格都有光,只有最後一格是黑的,有些膽大的學生會在放學後留下來,試圖證明這只是傳聞,他們會在洗手間裡等,等到整層樓安靜下來,只剩下水管偶爾傳來的聲音,有人會敲門,有人會小聲說話,甚至有人試過把手機伸到門縫下拍攝,但拍出來的畫面總是模糊,像對不到焦,又或者只是一片灰暗,看不出任何東西,有一個說法流傳得最廣,說這一格其實曾經出過事,很久以前,有學生在裡面發生意外,之後學校把門封起來,但沒有拆掉,因為拆掉會讓事情被記住,而保留下來,反而可以讓人慢慢忘記,也有人說,這一格其實不是一直存在的,有人記得小一時進去過,但到高年級再去時,已經變成「不能用」,像是某一天突然出現的改變,但沒有人記得那一天是什麼時候,最讓人不安的,是有些人聲稱在使用旁邊那一格時,會聽到隔壁傳來輕微的聲音,不是水聲,也不是腳步,而像是有人在裡面輕輕敲門,一下,又一下,節奏很慢,但當你停止動作,那聲音也會停,有人以為只是水管聲,但當你敲回去時,那邊會停頓一秒,然後再敲一次,像是在回應,有些人試過在門外數數,敲三下,等一下,再敲三下,結果裡面真的跟著節奏回應,但當他們鼓起勇氣再去推門時,門依然紋風不動,就像從來沒有任何人存在過一樣,後來學校甚至開始正式在門上貼上「停用」的標誌,但奇怪的是,那標誌每隔一段時間就會消失,然後又被貼上新的,像是有人把它撕掉,又有人重新貼上,沒有人知道是誰做的,有老師會說那只是學生惡作劇,也有人說那只是舊設施問題,但從來沒有人願意真正打開那一格去檢查,或者說,沒有人成功過,而真正讓人不敢再靠近的,是有學生曾經在放學後獨自去嘗試,他說那天洗手間很安靜,安靜到連水管聲都沒有,他站在最後一格門前,沒有敲門,只是把手放在門上,那一刻他清楚感覺到,門的另一邊,也有一隻手,同樣貼在那裡,但當他猛然退後,再次伸手去碰時,那種感覺已經消失,而門,仍然是關著的,就像什麼都沒有發生過一樣
English Version
In almost every old school, there seems to be a place that doesn’t quite belong, not in the classrooms or corridors, but hidden inside the restroom, where the last stall at the far end is always closed, sometimes labeled as out of order, sometimes simply avoided, yet no one can recall ever seeing it open, students eventually grow curious, approaching it quietly, placing a hand on the door, only to find that it doesn’t behave like a locked stall, it doesn’t click or resist in a normal way, instead it feels as if something on the other side is holding it shut, firm but silent, those who try to peek through the gap often describe something stranger, not darkness as expected, but an absence of space, as if the interior does not reflect light at all, just a flat, undefined shadow, some dismiss it as poor lighting, yet every other stall is clearly visible, making the last one stand out even more, stories begin to form, passed from one group of students to another, one version claims that something happened there long ago, an incident never officially recorded, and instead of removing the stall, the school chose to leave it intact but unused, allowing time to blur its significance, another version suggests the stall wasn’t always like this, that younger students once used it without issue, only to find years later that it had become inaccessible, as though the change occurred suddenly and quietly, unnoticed by most, what unsettles people the most are the sounds, faint and irregular, sometimes heard when someone is inside the neighboring stall, a soft tapping, slow and deliberate, not quite like pipes or footsteps, but something closer to a response, if you tap lightly on the wall, it may answer, not immediately, but after a pause, as if something is considering whether to reply, some have tried patterns, tapping three times, waiting, then repeating, and receiving the same rhythm back, yet when they gather the courage to step outside and push the door, nothing changes, it remains closed, unyielding, as if the interaction never happened at all, over time, the school began placing warning signs, marking it as unusable, but even those signs have a way of disappearing, only to be replaced again later, no one knows who removes them or why, teachers often dismiss everything as imagination or pranks, but none of them ever attempt to open it themselves, or at least, none who speak about it, and perhaps the most disturbing account comes from a student who stayed behind after school, alone, in a silent building where even the usual background noises had faded, standing in front of the last stall, he didn’t knock, he simply rested his hand against the door, and in that moment, he was certain, unmistakably certain, that something on the other side placed its hand against his as well, not pushing, not pulling, just matching the position exactly, but when he stepped back in shock and reached out again, the sensation was gone, leaving only the same closed door, unchanged, as if nothing had ever been there