Transitioning to a new environment always felt like jumping into a pool of ice. Cold, unfamiliar, and a little deadly. That's how I felt entering Pioneer Elementary School in Southampton. My name is Arez Redzel, and at ten years old, I preferred spending my time napping rather than running around on the playground like kids my age.
"Arez, welcome! Please introduce yourself to your new friends!" Mrs. Isabella, my friendly homeroom teacher, pushed me to the front of the class.
I just nodded awkwardly, staring at dozens of pairs of eyes on me. They seemed... cheerful. A foreign concept to me. "Arez," I said curtly, then quickly looked down. Social interaction was not my strong suit.
Mrs. Isabella gave a faint smile, probably already understanding my less-than-sparkling personality. "Alright, Arez. You can sit in the empty desk at the very back, behind Kalet."
I walked past the rows of desks, looking for the empty one. In front of me, a boy with pitch-black hair and olive skin turned around. His eyes were big, clear, and full of curiosity. He smiled at me, a smile that felt warm. That was Kalet.
"Hi! I'm Kalet. Nice to meet you!" he greeted cheerfully.
I just nodded, then sat in the desk behind him. "Arez," I replied briefly.
After that, there was no further conversation. I preferred to rest my head on the table and let the world pass by. I often fell asleep during class, becoming the subject of whispers and strange looks from my classmates. I knew I was considered weird, lazy, and not fun. But I didn't care much. I could hear their whispers, their laughter, and I could read each of their personalities from the way they interacted.
Kalet, on the other hand, was the center of attention. He was like a small sun radiating energy. Every recess, he was surrounded by friends. He played ball, shared his lunch, and was even friendly with older and younger students. Everyone liked him. He shined, and I, the shadow behind him, observed.
Even though I often slept, my brain never stopped working. I observed Kalet. Behind his boundless cheerfulness, there were small details that only I could see. Sometimes, when no one was looking, the expression of his smile would dim slightly. There was a flicker of loneliness in his eyes as he stared blankly out the window. He was an entertainer, always trying to make others happy. But was he happy?
A few days passed. My routine was the same: arrive, sit, sometimes sleep, observe. I was like a passive sensor in the classroom. Until one afternoon, after the school bell rang, I was the only one left in the class. I had fallen fast asleep at my desk.
"Arez! Wake up!" Mrs. Isabella's voice sounded loud in my ears. I woke up, blinking my eyes.
"Sorry, Ma'am..." I mumbled.
"You! Go home quickly!" Mrs. Isabella shook her head, but there was an amused smile on her lips. "Oh, by the way. Arez, could you help me for a moment? Kalet has to walk home with you today."
I frowned. "Why?"
"Kalet's parents are on assignment in the East. They asked me to find a child who could walk home with him. So, I'm asking you to accompany him. Just don't fall asleep on the way home, okay!" Mrs. Isabella laughed lightly.
So, that was it. For the next few days... maybe, I was forced to walk to and from school with Kalet. It felt awkward at first. We walked in silence. Kalet occasionally tried to start a conversation.
"Do you like comics, Arez?" he asked one afternoon, as we walked through a narrow alley leading to our housing complex.
I just shook my head. "No."
"Oh... then, do you like video games?"
"Sort of."
He sighed. I knew he was trying his best. I was just boring.
However, on the third day we walked together, something strange happened. We passed a large, old house, with a high fence and a lush garden. The house always looked deserted. Suddenly, Kalet stopped walking. His expression changed. His smile vanished, replaced by a worried frown.
"Kalet? What's wrong?" I asked. This was the first time I had seen him so serious.
He stared at the house, his eyes wide. "Just now... I heard something..."
"Heard what?"
"A voice... a whisper," Kalet whispered, his voice low. "From that house. Like... crying."
I sharpened my hearing. There was nothing. Just the sound of the wind rustling dry leaves. I knew Kalet wasn't lying. Something was bothering him. His cheerful personality was suddenly covered by a thin cloud of fear.
"It's just the wind, Kalet," I said, trying to reassure him.
He shook his head. "No. I often hear that sound whenever I pass by here. But I've never told anyone. They would just laugh at me." His clear eyes now looked a little teary.
I looked at the old house again. There was a mysterious aura surrounding it. The sound of crying from an empty house.
"You're not alone," I told Kalet. "I've heard strange things too." Of course, I was lying. But I had to make him feel comfortable. I knew I couldn't let him bear this alone. Somehow, that sense of responsibility just appeared.
Kalet looked at me, his eyes slightly surprised. "Really?"
I nodded. "Of course. Maybe we can find out what it is."
From that moment on, whenever we walked home from school, Kalet would stop in front of the old house. He would close his eyes, trying to listen for the whispers he said he heard. I stood beside him, observing his reactions, and trying to find physical clues around the house.
This was the first mystery I had to solve. But it was about a whisper, a cry, and the fear that was bothering my new friend, Kalet.
◇
The next few days felt like a secret mission that only the two of us knew about. Every afternoon, we would stand in front of the old house, Kalet trying to listen, and I trying to understand. I was lazy to move, but my curiosity about this mystery, combined with the desire to see Kalet no longer disturbed, overcame everything.
"Are you sure it's crying, Kalet?" I asked one afternoon, my eyes scanning every detail of the cracks in the fence wall. I wanted to test how strong Kalet's perception was, and if there was a pattern to this event.
Kalet nodded, his eyes serious. "Sometimes a whisper, sometimes a cry. It's very soft, Arez. Like... like someone being tortured, but they can't scream loudly." His voice trembled. He was very psychologically disturbed by this mystery.
I closed my eyes, trying to focus my hearing. I heard nothing but the faint sound of passing vehicles from the main road. However, I believed Kalet. I knew he wasn't lying. There was something behind his cheerfulness that made him so sensitive to things like this.
"Can you show me exactly where you hear it?" I asked.
Kalet pointed to a window on the second floor, tightly shut by old, thick curtains. "Over there. The sound comes from there."
The window looked ordinary. But I sensed a pattern. If the sound was real, why didn't anyone else hear it? Why only Kalet?
I started asking myself questions. Was the sound really there, or was it just Kalet's imagination? However, seeing his genuine fear, I was sure there was something.
We spent a few days with passive observation. I noted at what times Kalet heard the sound, how intense it was. There was no clear pattern in the timing or intensity. This made me think harder.
"Maybe it's a ghost?" Kalet whispered once, his eyes widening.
I snorted. "Ghosts don't leave tracks. If there's a sound, there must be a source." I observed the dry leaves falling from the tall trees in the house's garden.
I started to inquire about the house. From neighborhood gossip I overheard, the house had been empty for a long time. The owner had passed away, and there were no heirs to take care of it.
"Has anyone ever gone into that house?" I asked one of the neighbors, a middle-aged woman who often sat on her porch.
"Oh, no, dear!" she said, shaking her head quickly. "That house is haunted! Many people say there are often strange noises from inside."
So, it wasn't just Kalet who heard. But they all assumed it was a ghost. This was interesting. I knew it wasn't a ghost. There was a logical explanation behind it all. I had to find out what that explanation was.
One afternoon, as we were standing in front of the house, a soccer ball suddenly rolled out from behind a thick bush by the fence. The ball stopped right at Kalet's feet.
"Wow! Whose ball is this?" Kalet exclaimed, picking up the ball.
We looked around. There were no other kids. Just the two of us.
"Maybe a kid is playing inside the house?" Kalet asked, his eyes sparkling with hope.
"Impossible," I said. "This house is empty. And the fence is too high for a small child to jump over."
I took the ball from Kalet's hand. I examined its surface. There was nothing strange. But then, I saw something. A small symbol drawn with a permanent marker on one side of the ball. The symbol resembled a human ear with small earphones attached.
"What is this?" I asked Kalet.
Kalet shook his head. "I don't know. I've never seen this symbol before."
I felt the puzzle pieces starting to connect. An ear. Earphones. Sound. This wasn't a coincidence. This was a clue. The mastermind behind the strange sounds had deliberately left this clue. But for what?
I began to form a hypothesis. Maybe someone was using a voice recorder or a hidden speaker to create those sounds. But why? What was their goal in disturbing Kalet, or the people around here?
"Tomorrow," I told Kalet, "we'll investigate this house more closely."
Kalet's eyes widened. "Go inside?"
I nodded. "If we don't go in, we'll never know what's really going on." There was a strange drive within me to solve this mystery, not just for Kalet, but also to test my own abilities. This sense of responsibility felt very real, even though I was just a child.
That night, I couldn't sleep. My mind kept working, piecing together the possibilities. Who would go to the trouble of making strange noises in an empty house? What was their motive? And why the symbol of an ear with earphones? Was it some kind of message?
I also started thinking about how we could get into the house. We didn't have a key, and the fence was too high. We had to do a bit of "investigation" like real detectives. I started planning our steps. Where we would enter, what we should look for, and how we would get out undetected.
The next morning, as we walked towards the old house, Kalet seemed more excited, yet also nervous. "Are you sure we can do this, Arez?"
"Of course," I said, although inside I was also a little hesitant. But I had to look confident for Kalet. "We're detectives."
I looked at the old house. The window on the second floor looked dark, its curtains still tightly drawn. But this time, I felt there was something more than just a "ghost" in there. There was a hidden secret, waiting to be revealed. And we, two 5th graders, would be the first to find it.
Our plan was simple, yet risky. The high fence around the old house was the first challenge. I observed every curve, every gap, trying to find the weakest point. I saw a section of the fence that was a little loose in the back corner, hidden behind a thick bush.
"Over there!" I whispered to Kalet. "That part is rotten. We can get through it."
Kalet looked at me with a mix of sparkling and anxious eyes. "Are you sure?"
"Don't worry," I said, even though my heart was beating faster than usual. I imagined the steps we had to take, anticipating what might happen if we got caught. I also had to look more confident than I really was, to make Kalet feel safe.
We managed to sneak in. The house's yard was overgrown with tall weeds, and the large, leafy trees made the atmosphere feel damp and dark, even in the daytime. There was a strong mystical aura, as if time had stopped in that place. The smell of wet earth and moss stung my nose.
"Be careful," I whispered to Kalet, "don't make a sound."
We moved slowly towards the back door of the house, which looked more fragile than the front door. I tried to turn the doorknob. Locked. I looked for a gap in the nearest window frame. A small window next to the door, right above a pile of empty flowerpots, seemed to be unlocked.
"I'll try to open this," I said.
I climbed the pile of pots, then reached out my hand, trying to push the window latch. It was a little difficult, but finally, click! The window opened. Musty air and the smell of old dust immediately rushed out.
"It worked!" Kalet whispered, his face beaming.
We went inside. The house was dark, most of the curtains were closed. Thick dust covered everything, and spider webs hung from the ceiling. A stale smell filled the air. This was more than just an empty house; it was like a frozen museum of time. I could feel the traces of the past lingering in every corner of the room.
"Where did the sound come from?" I whispered to Kalet.
Kalet pointed upstairs. "From the second floor. From that room."
We climbed the creaking wooden stairs. Every step felt like it was breaking a long silence. The atmosphere became more tense as we approached the second floor. I sharpened my hearing, trying to hear the whispers Kalet heard. Nothing.
We arrived in front of the room Kalet had pointed to. The door was slightly ajar, peeking into the darkness. I pushed it slowly. Creak...
Inside, the room looked like a child's abandoned room. There was a small bed with an old sheet, a study desk with some children's storybooks, and an open wardrobe. Everything was covered in thick dust.
"I don't hear anything," I whispered, stepping inside.
Kalet shook his head. "Sometimes you don't hear it, Arez. But I'm sure, at some point, it will be there." His face still looked worried.
I stepped closer to the study desk. On it lay a worn-out cloth doll, with button eyes that were almost falling off. I touched it. The doll felt cold and stiff.
Suddenly, Kalet let out a small scream. "Arez! There it is! The sound!"
I sharpened my hearing. This time, I heard it. Very faint, like a gust of wind forming words: "Forgive... me... my child..." And it was followed by a soft, heartbreaking cry, as if coming from a distance. The sound felt real, not like an illusion.
I glanced at Kalet. His face was pale, his eyes wide with fear. I had to solve this mystery now, for Kalet. I knew how he felt at this moment, and I wanted to remove that fear from his mind.
I looked for the source of the sound. The whisper seemed to be coming from the cloth doll on the desk. I picked up the doll. I turned it over, feeling every stitch. I saw something on the doll's back. A stitch that looked new, different from the original stitching.
I took out the small folding knife that was somehow near me. Carefully, I cut the new stitching. Inside, a small voice recorder and a broken mini music box were hidden. The voice recorder was the source of the whispers and cries! And next to it, there was a faded piece of paper, with faint handwriting:
————————————————
Forgive me, my child.
I couldn't protect you.
This melody will always be with you.
————————————————
I showed the voice recorder to Kalet. "This is the source, Kalet. Not a ghost."
Kalet stared at the recorder, tears beginning to stream down his cheeks. "So... it's not a ghost?"
I shook my head. "No. It's just a recorded voice. Look, there's a button." I pressed the off button on the voice recorder. Instantly, the sound of the whispers and cries vanished. The room returned to silence, with only the sound of our breathing.
I read the writing on the paper. "Forgive me, my child. I couldn't protect you. This melody will always be with you." This was a message from a mother to her child. But why was it here?
I looked at the broken mini music box. I tried to turn its lever, but there was no sound. Maybe the music box used to play the melody mentioned in the writing.
I tried to piece together all the puzzle pieces. An empty house, whispering voices, crying, a doll, and a message from a mother. I tried to construct a logical story from all the elements.
"Kalet," I said, "I don't think this house is empty. There was a child who once lived here. And his mother... his mother might have left, or passed away, and left this message for him. She wanted her child to feel safe with this melody." I imagined the scenario, blending the facts with emotional possibilities.
I looked at the symbol of the ear with earphones on the ball. A metaphor for listening. Someone who wanted their voice to be heard, even if only through a recording.
I was sure this house held a deeper story. A story of loss, and the hope of reunion. Not a terrifying mystery, but a personal tragedy.
We decided to report this discovery to Mrs. Isabella. I knew she would be surprised. However, this was the only way to understand what happened to this house and the child who once lived in it.
In Mrs. Isabella's office, we showed her the voice recorder and the message. Mrs. Isabella looked at us with teary eyes.
"Oh my goodness..." she whispered. "This... this is the story of Mrs. Rachel and her son, Ryan."
Mrs. Isabella explained that the house used to belong to Mrs. Rachel, a single mother with a son named Ryan. Ryan loved his mother, who was a musician. Unfortunately, Mrs. Rachel passed away from a serious illness. Ryan, who was very young at the time, couldn't accept his mother's passing. He always waited for his mother in that house. Before she died, Mrs. Rachel managed to record her voice and put it in Ryan's favorite doll, hoping it would comfort him. Ryan was then taken in by a relative and moved away from Southampton.
"So, the whispers... were the voice of Ryan's mother," Kalet mumbled, tears welling up in his eyes. His fear had now turned into sadness.
I nodded. "And he came back here because he missed his mother. He was still looking for her."
Mrs. Isabella hugged both of us. "Thank you, Arez, Kalet. You've solved the mystery that made this house known as haunted all this time. You're both amazing."
Walking home from school, Kalet and I walked side by side. The old house now felt different. No longer scary, but full of memories.
"You're so amazing, Arez," Kalet said, his voice sincere. "You believed me. And you solved the mystery."
I just smiled faintly. "We solved it together, Kalet."
From that day on, Kalet no longer looked at the old house with fear. And the two of us, the lazy one and the cheerful one, became closer; officially becoming friends. A bond formed in the midst of a dark mystery, a bond that would last until we grew up. I never expected that because of this case, we would become such good friends.