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Jhaymkay🖤 Nigeria
Student/Writer @ NOUN
Yenagoa, Nigeria
2540
1847
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In Literature, Writing and Blogging 2 min read
BED 27
<p>The fingers around my ankle tightened.</p><p><br/></p><p>Then...</p><p><br/></p><p>They let go.</p><p><br/></p><p>I landed on cold concrete.</p><p><br/></p><p>Not dirt.</p><p><br/></p><p>A room.</p><p><br/></p><p>A room beneath the hostel.</p><p><br/></p><p>No windows.</p><p><br/></p><p>No doors.</p><p><br/></p><p>Only walls.</p><p><br/></p><p>Covered with names.</p><p><br/></p><p>Thousands of names.</p><p><br/></p><p>Every girl who had ever slept in Bed 27.</p><p><br/></p><p>My name...</p><p><br/></p><p>Was the newest.</p><p><br/></p><p>Behind me, someone giggled.</p><p><br/></p><p>The little girl.</p><p><br/></p><p>She smiled.</p><p><br/></p><p>"You came back."</p><p><br/></p><p>Memories crashed into me.</p><p><br/></p><p>Rain.</p><p><br/></p><p>Hide and seek.</p><p><br/></p><p>A wooden box beneath Bed 27.</p><p><br/></p><p>A little girl laughing.</p><p><br/></p><p>Me closing the lid.</p><p><br/></p><p>Running away.</p><p><br/></p><p>Forgetting.</p><p><br/></p><p>I fell to my knees.</p><p><br/></p><p>"I'm sorry..."</p><p><br/></p><p>She walked toward me.</p><p><br/></p><p>"I know."</p><p><br/></p><p>Relief flooded my chest.</p><p><br/></p><p>Then she whispered...</p><p><br/></p><p>"I died waiting for you."</p><p><br/></p><p>The room shook.</p><p><br/></p><p>The walls cracked.</p><p><br/></p><p>At first I thought they were bricks.</p><p><br/></p><p>They weren't.</p><p><br/></p><p>They were ribs.</p><p><br/></p><p>The floor beneath me moved.</p><p><br/></p><p>Like breathing.</p><p><br/></p><p>The ceiling thumped.</p><p><br/></p><p>Slow.</p><p><br/></p><p>Heavy.</p><p><br/></p><p>Like a heartbeat.</p><p><br/></p><p>I looked around.</p><p><br/></p><p>The room...</p><p><br/></p><p>Wasn't a room.</p><p><br/></p><p>It was alive.</p><p><br/></p><p>The hostel wasn't haunted.</p><p><br/></p><p>The hostel was the monster.</p><p><br/></p><p>Bed 27 wasn't cursed.</p><p><br/></p><p>It was its mouth.</p><p><br/></p><p>The little girl looked up.</p><p><br/></p><p>"I was never keeping the girls here."</p><p><br/></p><p>"I was trying to warn them."</p><p><br/></p><p>A deafening groan echoed above us.</p><p><br/></p><p>The walls opened.</p><p><br/></p><p>Not into hallways.</p><p><br/></p><p>Into a throat.</p><p><br/></p><p>Hundreds of girls stood inside it.</p><p><br/></p><p>Silent.</p><p><br/></p><p>Smiling.</p><p><br/></p><p>Their eyes empty.</p><p><br/></p><p>The Head Girl stepped forward.</p><p><br/></p><p>She looked at me.</p><p><br/></p><p>Then she whispered,</p><p><br/></p><p>"We were never students."</p><p><br/></p><p>"We were food."</p><p><br/></p><p>The floor lurched.</p><p><br/></p><p>The girls disappeared into the darkness.</p><p><br/></p><p>One by one.</p><p><br/></p><p>Without screaming.</p><p><br/></p><p>As if they had already accepted it.</p><p><br/></p><p>The little girl grabbed my hand.</p><p><br/></p><p>"Run."</p><p><br/></p><p>"There isn't a door."</p><p><br/></p><p>"I know."</p><p><br/></p><p>She smiled sadly.</p><p><br/></p><p>"There never was."</p><p><br/></p><p>Everything went black.</p><p><br/></p><p>...</p><p><br/></p><p>The next morning...</p><p><br/></p><p>Construction workers arrived at Queen Mary Hostel.</p><p><br/></p><p>There had been complaints.</p><p><br/></p><p>Girls kept disappearing.</p><p><br/></p><p>The building was scheduled for demolition.</p><p><br/></p><p>The first swing of the excavator hit Bed 27.</p><p><br/></p><p>Nothing happened.</p><p><br/></p><p>The second strike split the floor open.</p><p><br/></p><p>The workers stared.</p><p><br/></p><p>There was no foundation beneath the hostel.</p><p><br/></p><p>Only darkness.</p><p><br/></p><p>Endless darkness.</p><p><br/></p><p>Then...</p><p><br/></p><p>The darkness blinked.</p><p><br/></p><p>The foreman dropped his flashlight.</p><p><br/></p><p>Someone below whispered,</p><p><br/></p><p>"Thank you..."</p><p><br/></p><p>Another voice answered,</p><p><br/></p><p>"She's gone."</p><p><br/></p><p>Then...</p><p><br/></p><p>Thousands of voices laughed together.</p><p><br/></p><p>The workers ran.</p><p><br/></p><p>The hostel was demolished that afternoon.</p><p><br/></p><p>A shopping mall now stands where Queen Mary Hostel once was.</p><p><br/></p><p>People say it's perfectly safe.</p><p><br/></p><p>Except...</p><p><br/></p><p>Every year...</p><p><br/></p><p>One shop closes forever.</p><p><br/></p><p>The security cameras always fail at exactly 3:14 a.m.</p><p><br/></p><p>And sometimes...</p><p><br/></p><p>Late at night...</p><p><br/></p><p>Customers report hearing a little girl beneath the floor.</p><p><br/></p><p>Not crying.</p><p><br/></p><p>Not laughing.</p><p><br/></p><p>Just whispering...</p><p><br/></p><p>"There's room for one more."</p><p><br/></p><p>THE END.</p>

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