The Leighton House

"You have to do it!" said Nikki.

"Yeah, Jenni! Don't be a chicken!" said Carrie.

I rolled my eyes. Why did the stupidest things always start with a dare? Why hadn't I learned my lesson yet?

We were all standing outside of the biggest and most creepy house in our town. The old Leighton house had been abandoned for decades. The windows were boarded up, and the garden was overgrown with thorns and secrets. Local legend said the last owner, Irene Leighton had completely disappeared. She left behind only a locked bedroom door and a trail of unanswered questions.

So naturally, my friends dared me to go inside and take a peek. I was always the unlucky one... though my friends deemed me "Jenni, the Brave". Either way, I found myself crouched in the dusty hallway, eye pressed to the brass keyhole of Irene’s ancient bedroom.

At first, I saw nothing. Just a dark room filled with dust and decay. But slowly, things began to change. A flickering candle came into focus. It was sitting atop a vanity with a large ornate mirror. Inside the mirror's reflection, I could see... a woman.

She was seated at the vanity, brushing long silver hair that shimmered like moonlight. Her back was to me, but something felt wrong. Her movements were too smooth. They looked rehearsed. Like a show she was performing.

I pressed my eye closer, trying to get a better view. The mirror showed her pale face. Her eyes seemed hollow and she was smiling. I glimpsed at the seat at the vanity and that's when I noticed...

Though I could clearly see her face in the mirror, her body was no longer facing towards it. She was facing me. I stumbled back, heart hammering, breath caught in my throat. The door creaked quietly, just enough to make me freeze.

I ran to the edge of the hallway where the light from my flashlight felt stronger and safer. It felt like the house had changed somehow. The air felt thicker like breathing through a damp cloth. The silence wasn’t empty anymore. It was listening.

I turned back toward the bedroom door. It was closed even though I hadn't touched it. I should’ve left. I should have ran away screaming and told my friends the dare was over. But something kept pulling at me. It wasn't curiosity really. It was something colder, like déjà vu, only deeper. I felt like I'd been here before... in this moment. Not in this house. I wouldn't have been stupid enough to return if I truly had ever come in here before.

I stepped back toward the door, careful not to make a sound. The hallway behind me felt longer now, stretched like a rubber band about to snap. The air around me felt wrong. Like the house itself was holding its breath. The hallway stretched behind me, warped and unfamiliar, and the silence pressed in like a weight.

I pressed my eye to the lock again. The woman was no longer sitting at the vanity. The candle flickered once more then went out. That's when I heard it. A whisper, soft and dry, like leaves scraping across wood, “I see you too.” I turned and ran.

I raced down the hallway, past the peeling wallpaper and broken picture frames, through the front door and into the night. I didn’t stop until I reached the edge of the woods, where the air felt clean again.

I didn’t tell the others what I saw. I couldn't. Who would believe me?

It's been a year since that horrible event took place. Sometimes, when I have to pass by on the far side of the street, I swear I feel the woman in the Leighton house watching me.

And she's waiting behind that locked bedroom door.

Still brushing her long silver hair.

Still smiling maliciously.

Still listening...