The old high school on the edge of town had long been abandoned, its windows boarded up and its halls silent. Most people avoided it, but a few curious students would sneak in after dark, drawn by the whispers of ghost stories that had been passed down for decades. No one knew exactly where they came from, but the tale always began the same way: "There’s a girl who walks the halls at midnight." She was said to be a student who died in a fire years ago, her body never found. Some claimed she was a girl who had been bullied, others that she had been a teacher's favorite who vanished without a trace. No one could agree on the details, but the story stuck like a shadow. One night, a group of four friends—Lena, Jake, Mia, and Theo—decided to test the legend. They had heard the stories since childhood, but now they were older, more skeptical. The moon was full, casting pale light through the broken windows as they crept through the rusted gate and into the empty school. The air inside was colder than outside, thick with dust and the scent of mildew. Their flashlights flickered over peeling paint and faded locker numbers. The hallway stretched endlessly, each door slightly ajar, as if waiting. They walked past the gymnasium, where the basketball hoop swayed slightly even though there was no wind. At the end of the hall, they found the old auditorium, its stage still covered in a tattered curtain. "Let’s check the library," Lena suggested, leading them toward the back of the building. The door creaked open as they pushed it, revealing rows of dusty books and desks covered in cobwebs. The silence was so complete that they could hear their own breaths echoing off the walls. Then, the lights flickered. Not the overhead ones, but the soft glow of the old sconces that had long since been disconnected. They looked at each other, unsure whether it was just a power surge or something else. Before anyone could speak, a whisper drifted through the air—soft, almost melodic, but not human. "It’s just the wind," Jake said, trying to sound brave, but his voice cracked. They moved deeper into the library, past the shelves of forgotten novels and yellowed newspapers. Then, the whisper came again, closer this time. It wasn’t just one voice—it was many, overlapping, speaking in a language none of them recognized. The temperature dropped sharply, and their breath became visible in the cold. Mia stumbled backward, knocking over a stack of books. The sound echoed loudly, making them all jump. "We should go," she whispered, eyes wide. But before they could turn around, the doors slammed shut behind them. The lock clicked into place with a metallic *clunk*. A low hum filled the air, vibrating in their bones. The lights flickered again, and this time, they saw her. She stood at the far end of the room, silhouetted by the dim light. Her face was pale, her hair long and tangled, her clothes tattered and blackened at the edges. She didn’t move, but her eyes were fixed on them. One of the books on the shelf fluttered open, revealing a page with a name written in fading ink: *Elena Voss*. "She’s real," Theo breathed, his voice barely audible. The girl tilted her head, as if listening. Then, slowly, she stepped forward. The floorboards groaned beneath her feet. The friends backed away, hearts pounding, but the doors wouldn’t budge. The girl stopped a few feet away, her expression unreadable. Then, she spoke—not in words, but in a sound that resonated in their minds, like a memory they had never lived. It was not a scream, nor a cry, but a sorrow so deep it made their chests ache. The room felt heavier, as if the weight of her grief had settled over them. And then, just as suddenly as she appeared, she was gone. The lights returned to normal, the temperature rose, and the doors unlocked with a soft click. The friends stood frozen, staring at the empty space where she had been. They ran out of the school, not stopping until they reached the safety of the street. None of them spoke for a long time. When they finally did, it was only to ask the question they all had in their minds: "Who was she?" No one knew. But as they looked back at the dark silhouette of the school, they couldn’t shake the feeling that she was still watching. And maybe, just maybe, she was waiting for someone to come back.