It was past midnight when the whispers started. At first, I thought it was the wind, or maybe my imagination running wild after another long day of lectures and assignments. But then it became undeniable.
Something or someone was moving in my room when I was alone. My heart pounded as I froze in bed, listening carefully. Then I saw it. A shadow, flickering across the corner of the room, but unlike any shadow I had ever seen.
It moved on its own, stretching and shrinking, and then, in a voice I could not recognize, it spoke my name. I screamed, but no one came the hostel was eerily silent. Students in the nearby rooms were asleep, oblivious to the fear gripping me.
I spent the next few hours hiding under my blanket, afraid to look again. In the morning, I discovered doors slightly ajar, my study notes scattered, and my bag moved from where I had left it.
Something had been there, and it had known me. I couldn’t explain it. I tried to brush it off, thinking stress and sleep deprivation were playing tricks on my mind.
The fear did not fade, and after a few more nights of unexplained noises, objects moving, and shadows flickering, I knew I needed help.
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