My name is Alina-Jaya, and I had always dismissed the notion of ghosts, until a peculiar incident transpired at my school. It all began during a conversation with my friends about their eerie encounters. Skepticism had become my stance, and I grew weary of hearing tales that seemed far-fetched. Frustrated, I excused myself to the bathroom. There, amidst the solitude, I discerned the soft sound of a girl sniffling. Concerned, I inquired about her well-being, yet no response was forthcoming—a peculiar silence hung in the air. The strange occurrence stayed with me.
Later that evening, curiosity led me to explore online ghost websites, immersing myself in unsettling stories. As I delved into the narratives, an inexplicable pinch stung my arm. Expecting my younger brother’s prank, I glanced around, but an empty room greeted me. Despite my burgeoning fear, I persisted in reading, compelled by an unsettling allure. At that juncture, an enigmatic presence seemed to lean over me, a faint breath brushing against my skin. My heart raced, but I reasoned that ghosts don’t breathe.
Trembling, the door slammed shut, my sister’s arrival prompting me to abandon the computer hastily. Her perceptive gaze caught my distress, leading me to recount the day’s unusual events. She reassured me, reminding me of her presence. With a soothing voice, she suggested conjuring happy thoughts to dispel the unease. However, each time I attempted to focus on joy, the shadow of the encounter pervaded. Though the day’s events had left an indelible mark, I chose to embrace my newfound belief in the supernatural while opting not to broach the topic in our school’s discussions about ghosts.
Still, despite my growing conviction in the existence of spirits, one question remained unanswered: the sobbing I had heard in the bathroom that day. Was it possible that a child had merely sought solace within the restroom’s confines? As I exited, every door stood ajar, leaving me pondering the enigma that had touched my life.