The old school building had been abandoned for over thirty years, its windows boarded up and the iron gate rusted shut. No one dared to go near it after the stories started circulating in the 1980s—stories of students who vanished without a trace, of whispers in empty hallways, and of a shadow that moved when no one was there. But the local kids still told the tales, passing them down like folklore, never quite sure if they were real or just meant to scare. One rainy afternoon, a group of teenagers from the nearby town decided to investigate. They had heard the legends, but they weren’t afraid. They were curious. The leader of the group, a boy named Eli, had once seen a ghostly figure in a photo taken at the school during a storm. It was blurry, but he swore it looked like a girl in a white dress, standing by the main entrance. They arrived at the school just before sunset, the sky painted in deep oranges and purples. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and decay. As they pushed open the creaking gate, a gust of wind blew through the empty halls, carrying with it a faint sound—like a child humming a lullaby. None of them spoke, but all of them felt it: the weight of something watching them. Inside, the silence was oppressive. Dust swirled in the beams of light that filtered through broken windows. The floorboards groaned under their feet as they walked past classrooms filled with overturned desks and shattered chalkboards. In one room, a single chair sat in the center, as if waiting for someone to sit down. Eli led them toward the auditorium, where the stories said the most strange things happened. As they entered, the temperature dropped suddenly. A cold wind swept through the space, extinguishing their flashlights. When they turned them back on, the lights flickered, casting long shadows across the stage. Something moved in the darkness beyond the curtain. “Did you see that?” whispered Mia, her voice trembling slightly. “No,” said Jake, the quietest of the group, “but I feel it.” They stepped onto the stage, the wooden planks creaking beneath them. The curtains swayed, though there was no wind. Then, from the back of the auditorium, a soft voice called out. “You shouldn’t be here.” They froze. The voice was young, almost childlike, but not quite human. It wasn’t loud, but it echoed through the empty space, filling every corner of the room. “Who’s there?” Eli shouted, his voice cracking. No answer. Just the sound of footsteps, slow and deliberate, moving toward them. Mia grabbed Eli’s arm. “We should leave. Now.” But before they could turn around, the lights went out again. In the darkness, they heard the whispering again, this time closer. It wasn’t just one voice—it was many, overlapping, murmuring in a language they didn’t understand. Then, a hand touched Mia’s shoulder. She screamed, but no one responded. The others were frozen, paralyzed by fear. The whispering grew louder, more insistent, until it became a song. A lullaby, soft and sad, echoing through the walls. When the lights came back on, they were alone. The doors were closed, the windows sealed. No sign of anyone else. But in the middle of the stage, a small, folded piece of paper lay on the floor. Eli picked it up, and as he read it, his face paled. It was a name. A name they had never heard before. But it was written in perfect, elegant script, and it belonged to a student who had supposedly died in an accident decades ago. As they left the school, the sun had set, and the sky was dark. The wind howled through the trees, carrying with it the sound of laughter. None of them spoke on the way back, each lost in their own thoughts. That night, none of them could sleep. Each of them dreamed of the school, of the girl in the white dress, of the lullaby that wouldn’t stop playing. And in the morning, they found that the names of the students who had vanished were now listed in the old yearbook, their faces smiling in the faded photos. But the question remained: Had they really been there? Or had the school made them believe they had? And if the school could make them remember, what else could it make them forget?