⚠️Disclaimer⚠️: This is a work of creative fiction inspired by an incident associated with JRMSU–Dipolog Campus. All characters, events, and situations portrayed in this story are fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.
Jose Rizal Memorial State College-Dipolog Campus, 2005.College of Education (Night Class)
The classroom buzzed under the flickering lights as the instructor, Miss Carmin, handed out the quiz papers. As she settled into her seat, one student suddenly stood up.
"Ma'am, my quiz paper is missing," the student said.
"What do you mean, missing?" Miss Carmin snapped. "Who's hiding her paper?" she asked, eyeing the class.
Students exchanged glances, murmuring. The girl stood frozen, her eyes darting across the room—meeting cold glares and barely concealed looks of disgust.
"Well, dear," Miss Carmin said, her tone dipping into mockery. "It seems no one has your paper. Are you sure you submitted it to me?"
"Yes, ma'am!" she replied quickly. "I was even the one who collected the papers."
The instructor scoffed. "You're not the only class I handle. Do you expect me to remember every little thing from last week?"
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"M-Maybe it's in your office... or in your bag," the student offered, voice trembling.
The instructor slammed a book hard against the desk. The sound silenced the room.
"Are you accusing me?"
"N-No, ma'am! I was only—"
"Get out of my class!" the instructor yelled. "I don't need students like you in here."
Since then, the student became a target.
Her classmates bullied her relentlessly. They would pull pranks, hide her things, and whisper just loud enough for her to hear. Every day felt like a punishment. She'd lock herself in the toilet just to cry, or find excuses to miss her classes altogether.
Her instructors were no different.T
hey dismissed her complaints with raised eyebrows and rolled eyes. Even when she aced her quizzes, they would still mark her with low scores—as if her effort was invisible, as if her presence was a mistake.
She began to fade from everything.
No friends. No one to sit with. No one to trust.
She felt alone, then... truly alone.
The student died not long after. They said it was suicide...
She was found lifeless inside one of the campus comfort rooms.
Her death spread quickly—whispers in corridors, silence in classrooms. The students and instructors who had once ridiculed her suddenly fell quiet. When questioned by authorities about the student's life on campus, no one spoke. Not a word. Not even a sigh.
Then, one night...
The instructor was distributing quiz papers again. Routine, like nothing had happened.
As she was about to sit down, one student slowly stood up.
"Ma'am?" the student said, voice trembling.
"What is it?" the instructor asked, glancing at the student—who had turned visibly pale, staring at the paper in their hands.
"This paper..." the student whispered.Everyone looked at them, waiting. The room held its breath.
"...it belongs to Monica Virgilio."
From that moment, the name once again echoed through the halls of JRMSC.