Eli's first day in apartment 4B felt… quiet.
Too quiet.
He unpacked his suitcase, checked every corner, and occasionally glanced at me as if he wanted to ask something—but never did.
I just watched from the sofa, pretending to read a book.
But in my mind, there was only one question:
"When will the list appear?"
That night, I pretended to fall asleep early.
But in truth… I was waiting.
And just as I suspected, around 1:12 a.m., I heard Eli's footsteps heading to the kitchen.
The sound of running water, then silence.
Then—three loud knocks.
From the window.
I got up immediately and rushed to the kitchen.
Eli stood frozen, staring at the curtained window.
His face pale.
"Rayhan…" his voice barely a whisper.
"There's… someone outside the window. But we're on the fourth floor, right?"
I simply nodded.
The next morning, I found him sitting at the dining table, looking exhausted.
"I didn't sleep at all," he said.
"There were strange noises. Like someone whispering from the closet."
I couldn't tell him that this was only the beginning.
But what made my heart skip a beat was the object in front of him.
A piece of paper.
He showed it to me.
"I found this slipped under the door. Do you know what it is?"
I took it.
My heart pounded.
The list had appeared.
Eli's List:
Reopen the locked closet.
Find the photo with the red circle.
Listen to the 1985 recording.
Don't open the window at 3 a.m.
Visit the basement even if the door is gone.
Look for the doll that was once thrown away.
Choose who must remember.
I tried to stay neutral.
"Maybe… it's some kind of interactive horror game? The former tenant liked playing pranks?"
Eli didn't laugh.
He pointed at the first point.
"I tried opening the closet last night. But the lock's broken."
I sighed. "Maybe we can find a way—"
Before I could finish, the closet at the end of the hallway creaked open by itself.
We stared at each other.
Eli stood slowly and walked toward it.
I followed, and together we looked inside the old closet.
There was only one item.
A black-and-white photo with a red circle in one corner.
The first item on the list.
Eli held the photo.
His face shifted in confusion.
"The person in this photo… I know her," he whispered.
I looked at him. "Are you sure?"
He nodded.
"That's my grandmother. But she… died before I was born."
I took the photo, inspecting it more closely.
The little girl in the corner—the one circled in red—was holding the same doll as Mara's.
And suddenly, everything started to make sense.
Eli wasn't just the next tenant.
He was blood-related to the ones who used to live here.
The next night, I heard the sounds again.
But this time, they didn't come from Eli.
They came from behind the walls.
Like someone tapping with their fingers.
I followed the noise to Eli's room.
He wasn't there.
But on his bed was something:
An old cassette labeled "1985".
Step number 3.
I played it using a tape recorder I had found earlier in the basement.
The recording was rough. Static.
Then…
"Don't let her forget.""She must remember or she'll be stuck.""The mirror knows."
A child's voice… and an old woman's.
Then a scream.
Silence.
Eli walked in minutes later.
He looked at me, confused.
"What are you doing with that?"
I just pointed at the list.
"We've reached step three."
He sighed. "I don't know why, but… I feel like I've heard that voice before. Back at my grandmother's house."
"Did she ever say anything about this place?"
He nodded slowly.
"She once said… never live in Apartment 4B."
We began working together.
For the first time, I didn't feel alone.
I started recording every event. Eli began piecing together memories from his grandmother's stories.
He remembered the old doll.
The closet that must never be opened.
And the mirror always covered in black cloth.
Piece by piece, it all returned.
Until one night, he said:
"Rayhan…I think… Mara is my distant cousin."
I couldn't respond.
Because that night, in his mirror, Mara's silhouette appeared again.
Smiling.
And pointing at the last item on the list:
"Choose who must remember."