he first night, I struggled to sleep

When I was fourteen, my family moved into a weathered Victorian house at the edge of an overgrown forest. The house had been abandoned for decades, its once grand exterior now covered in ivy, its windows dark and lifeless. The locals refused to talk about it, shaking their heads when we asked why it had been left untouched for so long. My parents laughed it off, eager for a fresh start.

The first night, I struggled to sleep. The air inside was thick, heavy with a strange dampness. Then, just as I started drifting off, I heard a sound—a faint tapping, like fingernails against glass. I turned toward my window, but there was nothing there. The tapping continued, rhythmic and slow, traveling from one windowpane to the next. Then it stopped.

Over the following days, things escalated. The floorboards groaned as if someone was walking the halls at night, though when I checked, I always found the house empty. My little brother spoke of a shadowy figure standing at the foot of his bed, its face featureless but watching. My mother dismissed it as bad dreams.

One evening, as I climbed the staircase, I felt a sudden drop in temperature. My breath misted in front of me, and the air smelled of damp earth, like freshly dug soil. Then I heard it—a whisper, barely audible. “Get out.” My skin prickled, and I ran to my room, locking the door behind me.

The night before we left, the house made its final warning. A terrible wailing echoed through the halls, so loud and anguished it jolted us all awake. Every door in the house slammed shut at once. The walls shuddered. My brother’s room, when we forced our way inside, was ice-cold, and his bed was covered in handprints too small to be human.

At dawn, we fled. My parents refused to speak of what happened, but their silence told me they believed it now. Years later, I passed by the house again. It stood there, still empty, its windows staring out like hollow eyes. Just as I turned away, I heard it—the soft tapping against the glass, following me as I walked away.