The old mansion at the end of Willow Street had been empty for years. Everyone in the town believed it was haunted. Strange whispers were often heard at night, and lights flickered behind its broken windows even though no one lived there.
One rainy evening, 16-year-old Emma and her best friend Lily decided to prove that the stories were fake.
"It's just an old house," Emma said, holding a flashlight tightly.
Lily looked nervous. "Then why does everyone avoid it?"
Emma laughed, though her heart was beating fast. "Because people love scary stories."
The rusty gate creaked as they pushed it open. The sound echoed in the silent night. Rain tapped against the dry leaves scattered in the garden. The mansion stood before them like a giant shadow.
Inside, the air was cold and smelled of dust and rotten wood. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling. Their flashlight beam moved across old portraits on the walls. The eyes in the paintings seemed to follow them.
"Did you see that?" Lily whispered.
"See what?"
"The woman in that painting… I think she smiled."
Emma turned quickly. The portrait showed a pale woman in a black dress, her face emotionless. Emma forced a laugh. "You're imagining things."
Suddenly, a loud bang came from upstairs.
Both girls froze.
"It's probably just the wind," Emma said, but her voice shook.
They slowly climbed the staircase. Each step creaked under their feet. At the end of the hallway was a half-open door.
The banging sound came from inside.
Emma pushed the door open.
It was a child's bedroom.
An old rocking chair moved back and forth on its own.
Lily gasped. "Emma… let's go."
Before Emma could reply, the door slammed shut behind them.
The flashlight flickered.
Then it went out.
Darkness swallowed the room.
"Emma!" Lily screamed.
Emma fumbled with the flashlight until it turned on again.
Lily was gone.
"Lily?" Emma's voice trembled. "Stop joking!"
No answer.
Then she heard a soft whisper near her ear.
"She never left."
Emma spun around, but no one was there.
Her breathing became heavy. She rushed to the door, but it wouldn't open.
Then she saw something in the mirror across the room.
A little girl stood behind her.
She wore a white dress stained with dirt. Her long black hair covered most of her face.
Emma slowly turned around.
No one.
She looked back at the mirror.
The girl was closer.
Emma screamed and ran toward the door, pulling it with all her strength.
This time it opened.
She ran downstairs and out of the mansion into the pouring rain.
She didn't stop until she reached home.
The next morning, the police searched the mansion.
There was no sign of Lily.
Not a single footprint except Emma's.
Days turned into weeks, but Lily was never found.
People believed she had run away.
But Emma knew the truth.
Every night, at exactly midnight, she heard a knock on her bedroom window.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
When she finally gathered the courage to look outside, her blood turned cold.
Lily stood there in the darkness.
Her face was pale, her eyes empty.
And beside her stood the little girl in the white dress.
Both of them smiled.
Then Lily whispered through the glass,
"Emma… she wants you to come back."
From that night on, Emma never slept again.
Because every midnight, the knocking returned.
Closer.
Louder.
Waiting.