BED 27: PART 3 - by Jhaymkay🖤

The girl walking toward Bed 27… Was me. I tried to scream. Nothing came out. She stopped in front of my bed. I stared at her face. My face. Same eyes. Same hair. Same terrified expression. She looked at me. Then she whispered: “Please don't let her see you.” I couldn't move. “Who?” She slowly pointed behind me. I turned. Ifeoma was standing at the end of the room. But she wasn't looking at me. She was looking at the girl who looked like me. Her face had gone completely white. Then Ifeoma whispered: “No.” The girl beside my bed started crying. “I told you she would remember.” I looked at Ifeoma. “Remember what?” The entire hostel went silent. Every girl in the room sat up at the exact same time. All of them were staring at me. Then the Head Girl walked toward us. She stopped beside the girl who looked like me. And said: “Which one of you is the real girl?” I couldn't breathe. The girl beside me immediately pointed at me. “Her.” Ifeoma shook her head. “No.” The Head Girl looked at her. Ifeoma's eyes filled with tears. Then she whispered: “She isn't the real one.” My heart stopped. I looked at the girl beside me. She was crying. “I am.” I shook my head. “No. No, I'm the real one.” The Head Girl slowly walked toward me. “Then tell us your name.” I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. I knew my name. I knew I did. But suddenly… I couldn't remember it. The girl beside me whispered: “That's what happened to me too.” Ifeoma covered her mouth. The Head Girl looked at the other girls. Then said: “Turn on the lights.” The lights came on. And I finally saw the photographs covering the walls. There were hundreds of them. Every girl who had ever lived in Queen Mary Hostel. I walked closer. My hands began to shake. There I was. In one photograph. Standing beside Bed 27. I looked about twelve years old. I turned to the Head Girl. “That isn't me.” She didn't answer. I looked at the date beneath the photograph. 2009. I stared at it. I wasn't even born in 2009. Then I saw another photograph. Me. 2014. Another. 2019. Another. 2023. Another. 2026. Every photograph showed me. Standing beside Bed 27. Always the same age. Always wearing the same expression. Always looking terrified. I slowly turned around. The girl who looked like me was no longer crying. She was smiling. Ifeoma grabbed my hand. Her fingers were freezing. “Don't look at the photographs anymore.” “Why?” She looked at me. “Because the last photograph hasn't been taken yet.” I stared at her. “What does that mean?” She pointed toward the end of the hallway. There was one empty frame hanging on the wall. A fresh photograph slowly began sliding into it. I watched it appear. The picture showed the hostel. The girls. The Head Girl. Ifeoma. The girl who looked like me. And me. Standing in the middle. I looked closer. My blood turned cold. There was one more person in the photograph. Standing directly behind me. A girl with long, wet hair. Her face was pressed against my ear. I slowly turned around. Nobody was there. Then my phone buzzed. 3:14 a.m. A message appeared. YOU FINALLY REMEMBERED. I stared at the screen. Another message appeared. YOU WERE NEVER THE GIRL IN BED 27. I felt something cold touch the back of my neck. Then the final message appeared. YOU WERE THE GIRL WHO BUILT IT. I looked at Ifeoma. She was crying now. I whispered: “What did I build?” The girl beside me answered. “Us.” The lights went out. And in the darkness… I heard my own voice whisper from somewhere inside the hostel: “Please open the door.” Once. Twice. Three times. Then I understood. The girl in the toilet… The girl under the bed… The girl above me… The girl walking into the hostel… They were all me. But the worst part? I wasn't trapped in Queen Mary Hostel. I was the reason nobody could leave. Then the Head Girl whispered: “Part four begins when you remember what you did to the first girl.” And from inside Bed 27… A little girl started laughing.

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