It started with the window.
Lena had just moved into a cheap apartment in a quiet part of town. The rent was suspiciously low, but she was broke, and the landlord didn’t ask too many questions. It was an old building—creaky floors, peeling wallpaper, and a weird chill that never went away. But the strangest thing was the window in her bedroom.
It looked out into the alley between two buildings. Nothing much to see. But on her first night, around 3:00 a.m., she woke up. Not because of a sound, but because she felt something.
Her eyes slowly adjusted, and there it was—a girl, maybe eight or nine years old, standing outside the window, staring in. Pale skin, dark eyes, and long, tangled black hair. Lena blinked. The girl didn’t move. Just… stared.
Then the girl smiled.
And vanished.
The next morning, Lena figured it was a dream. But the next night, it happened again. Same time. Same girl. Same smile.
Lena told the landlord.
“Oh,” he said, eyes darkening. “You saw her too, huh? That window’s been bricked up for years. There's nothing on the other side.”
Lena didn’t believe him. She went home, grabbed a flashlight, and opened the window.
There was no alley.
Just brick.
Solid. Cold. Old.
But from the inside… the window still looked out into an alley. Still showed a little girl staring back.
And that night, Lena didn’t wake up at 3:00 a.m.
Because she didn’t fall asleep at all.
She was too busy listening…
To the sound of fingernails scratching on the glass.
