The old high school on the edge of town had been abandoned for over thirty years, its windows boarded up and its halls silent. No one knew exactly why it was left to decay, but rumors swirled like dust in the empty corridors. Some said it was a place where students disappeared, others claimed it was cursed by a vengeful teacher who once taught there. Most dismissed these stories as the fabrications of bored kids, but every year, a new group of teenagers would gather at the school's gates, daring each other to enter. One such night, four friends—Lila, Marco, Tessa, and Jax—decided to test the legend. They arrived just after sunset, the sky painted in shades of orange and purple. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and old wood. As they approached the rusted gate, the wind howled through the broken fence, sending a shiver down Lila’s spine. Inside, the school was eerily still. The hallway lights flickered faintly, casting long shadows across the cracked tiles. The floorboards creaked under their steps, and the sound echoed like whispers in the distance. Tessa lit a flashlight, its beam cutting through the darkness. “This place is creepy,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. They found an old classroom with desks arranged in neat rows, all covered in dust. A chalkboard stood at the front, its surface faded and smudged. Jax ran his fingers over the board, tracing the remnants of a name written in shaky handwriting: *Ms. Voss*. He turned to the others. “Who was she?” No one knew. But as they moved deeper into the building, they began to notice strange details. A door that didn’t open when pushed, a clock that ticked backward, and a set of footprints leading from the library to nowhere. Each clue deepened the mystery, but none of them could explain it. In the basement, they discovered a hidden room behind a loose panel. Inside, there were old textbooks, student records, and a small desk with a lamp still glowing faintly. On the desk sat a journal, its pages yellowed and brittle. Lila opened it, and the words seemed to jump off the page: *"March 12th, 1987. I saw her again today. She walks the halls at night, always wearing the same gray dress. I don’t know if she’s real or just my mind playing tricks. But she never speaks. Just watches."* Marco frowned. “Who wrote this?” Tessa flipped through more pages. “It’s from a student named Eliza. She was a senior that year. She vanished without a trace.” As they continued reading, the journal spoke of strange occurrences—students hearing voices in the walls, doors opening on their own, and a girl who was never seen again. The final entry was dated the day the school closed: *"I’m not sure if I’ll ever leave this place. I can hear her now, even when I’m outside. She’s here, watching me. I think she’s waiting for someone else."* The group exchanged uneasy glances. They had heard enough. But as they turned to leave, the lights flickered out, plunging the room into darkness. The temperature dropped instantly, and the air felt heavy, as if something was pressing against them. Then, a soft, melodic hum filled the space. It wasn’t loud, but it was impossible to ignore. It sounded like a lullaby, but the tune was wrong—off-key, almost mournful. The hum grew louder, and the walls seemed to pulse with it. The door behind them slammed shut with a force that sent them stumbling back. “Okay, that’s enough,” Jax said, his voice tight. “We’re getting out of here.” But as they tried to find their way back, the layout of the school changed. Hallways twisted into unfamiliar shapes, and doors led to places they hadn’t seen before. The footprints they had followed earlier now vanished, replaced by something else—small, delicate marks that looked like handprints. Eventually, they stumbled upon the main entrance, breathless and shaking. They rushed outside, the night air feeling refreshingly normal. But as they looked back at the school, it was different. The windows were no longer boarded up, and faint lights glowed from within. And in one of the upper windows, a figure stood, watching them. They didn’t speak for a long time. None of them could explain what had happened, but something had changed. The next day, the school was still empty, but the local news reported that a new student had enrolled—Eliza Voss, a girl with the same name as the one in the journal. No one had seen her before, but she was already in class, sitting in the same seat as the last student who disappeared. And that night, the school’s lights flickered once more, as if welcoming a new guest.