The old high school stood at the edge of town, its red brick walls weathered by time and neglect. No one had lived in it for years, but the stories still lingered like ghosts in the air. Students whispered about the girl who disappeared in the 1970s, the teacher who never left, and the locked classroom that no one dared to enter. Most dismissed them as myths, but some believed they were more than just tales told to scare younger kids. Lila had always been curious. She was a quiet girl with a notebook always in her hand, sketching the strange things she saw in her dreams. When she heard about the abandoned school, she felt drawn to it, as if something inside her knew it was important. She didn’t tell anyone, not even her best friend, Mia, who had warned her to stay away. On a rainy afternoon, Lila found herself standing in front of the school, the rain soaking through her jacket. The gates creaked open on their own, as if the building itself was welcoming her. Inside, the air was thick with dust and silence. The hallway floorboards groaned beneath her feet, and the windows were covered in thick layers of grime, letting in only slivers of light. She wandered into the main hall, where a faded banner hung from the ceiling: “Class of 1978 – Graduation Day.” A single chair sat in front of the stage, and the stage lights flickered as if trying to come alive. Lila stepped closer, her breath catching in her throat. She reached out to touch the chair, but before her fingers could make contact, the lights suddenly blazed to life, illuminating the entire room. A voice echoed from somewhere deep within the building. It was soft, almost melodic, but it sent a chill down her spine. “You shouldn’t be here.” Lila spun around, but the room was empty. The voice wasn’t coming from any direction—it was everywhere at once. She backed away slowly, heart pounding, when she noticed a door at the end of the hallway. It was slightly ajar, and the faint sound of laughter drifted from behind it. She hesitated, then pushed the door open. The room beyond was small and dimly lit, filled with old desks and chalkboards covered in faded equations. In the center of the room stood a young girl, no older than ten, wearing a tattered uniform. Her face was pale, her eyes hollow. She looked directly at Lila and smiled. “You’ve come back,” the girl said, her voice echoing like a whisper carried on the wind. Lila’s legs trembled. “Who are you?” The girl tilted her head. “I was here. I was always here.” Before Lila could ask anything else, the girl vanished, leaving only a trail of cold air in her wake. The room grew darker, the shadows stretching unnaturally along the walls. Lila turned to leave, but the door slammed shut behind her. Panic surged through her, but she forced herself to stay calm. As she searched for another exit, she noticed something on the wall—letters carved into the wood, barely visible. They spelled out a name: *Elena*. She had heard that name before, in old rumors about the school. Elena was the girl who disappeared, supposedly during a fire that burned down part of the building. But no one had ever found her body. Suddenly, the lights flickered again, and a new sound filled the room—the sound of footsteps, slow and deliberate, approaching from the other side of the door. Lila pressed her back against the wall, holding her breath. The footsteps stopped. Then, a knock. Three short taps, like someone tapping on a window. She froze. The knocking continued, rhythmic and methodical. It wasn’t random. It was a message. *Knock. Knock. Knock.* Her mind raced. Was it a ghost? A trick of the mind? Or something else entirely? The thought that she might not be alone in the building made her stomach twist. Then, the knocking stopped. Silence fell over the room. Lila waited, heart hammering, until the door creaked open on its own. The hallway was empty, the lights dimmed. She stepped outside, the rain now falling harder, washing away the last traces of the eerie atmosphere. She didn’t go back to the school again. But every night after that, she dreamed of the girl in the classroom, smiling as if she had been waiting all along. And sometimes, in the corner of her vision, she saw a shadow watching her, just beyond the edge of the light.