Hello!!
I am Goreng, a high school student. Today, I want to share a haunting experience that still gives me chills. It happened the day before Teacher's Day. My two friends, Jameson and Ralph, and I were assigned the task of decorating our school’s celebration hall for the big event. It was a Saturday, and we spent the entire day at school with only our PT teacher supervising us. The hall was filled with colorful balloons, festoons, pictures of teachers, and snacks for the celebration.
By evening, the work was still unfinished, and we were getting hungry. Our PT teacher gave Jameson some money to buy snacks. Ralph wanted to accompany him, so the two of them left while I stayed behind, writing game ideas on paper slips. Our PT teacher stepped outside to take a phone call from his wife. Moments later, he seemed to have vanished into thin air.
For the first time that day, I realized I was alone in the large, silent hall. The quiet was so intense that I could hear my own heartbeat. Suddenly, a balloon popped. I flinched but brushed it off as nothing. Then another balloon popped. I told myself Jameson must have overinflated them. But my unease grew when, out of nowhere, five balloons burst simultaneously. Panic set in.
I called out, “Sir, are you there?” but received no response. My heart was racing, and the silence was oppressive. Just then, I heard a voice coming from the principal’s office adjacent to the hall. It was faint but unmistakable: “I will kill you. It was you.” My legs felt weak, and I struggled to stay upright.
The principal’s office was usually locked, but that day, the door was slightly ajar, creaking ominously in the evening breeze. Gathering every ounce of courage, I shouted, “Who’s there?” A flower pot crashed to the ground nearby, and then I heard a voice that still haunts me at night: “Goreng, save me!” It was our PT teacher.
Terrified, I rushed toward the office and pushed the door open. Inside, the scene was horrifying. Our PT teacher lay on the floor, a large knife embedded in his abdomen. Black liquid dripped from his mouth. Standing nearby was a tall girl with pale, almost translucent skin, long black hair, and eyes that wept blood. Her body was covered in wounds, and her hands were twisted unnaturally at a 180-degree angle. She turned to face me and repeated the words I had heard earlier: “I will kill you. It was you.”
Overcome with terror, I bolted out of the office, slamming the door behind me. The girl banged on it from the inside, her cries growing louder and more desperate. Just then, my friends returned, and I screamed for help. Jameson and Ralph ran to me, alarmed by my tears and trembling. I recounted everything I had seen.
We immediately called the police, who arrived with the school principal. After a thorough investigation, including input from paranormal experts, a horrifying truth came to light. Years ago, the principal’s son had written a fake letter to lure a girl to the office. When she arrived, he confessed his love and attempted to seduce her. The girl, outraged, threatened to expose him and tried to leave. In a fit of rage, the principal’s son stabbed her with a sharp knife. She died on the spot, her cries for help unheard in the empty school. The boy buried her body in the basement of the principal’s office to hide his crime.
The girl’s spirit had been trapped in the office ever since, seeking justice. The principal and his son were arrested, but the memory of that night remains vivid in my mind. Even now, I struggle to sleep, haunted by her blood-soaked tears and the chilling words she spoke. Thank you for listening to my story.
