"Echoes of Agatha".

year ago, as the final exams approached, I found myself facing a mountain of preparation. Our school library usually closed at five, but during the exam period, it remained open until midnight to accommodate students like me who needed extra time to study. My house was just a short distance away, but I preferred the serene atmosphere of the library over studying at home. On that particular evening, I left my house around six and headed to the library, eager to get a head start.

I was so engrossed in my studies that I lost track of time. Before I knew it, it was ten o'clock. Normally, I’d be heading home by eight, but this time, the library was eerily quiet. The usual hum of activity had faded, and I found myself alone in the stillness. I had only about fifteen minutes of work left, so I decided to finish up quickly before heading home.

As I focused intently on my work, I was jolted by the sound of someone limping through the library. The noise was faint but distinct, like someone dragging their feet. I glanced up and saw no one, so I quickly gathered my things and went outside. The library corridor seemed unusually long and dark that night. At the end of the corridor, there was an exit door, and I was eager to get through it and head home.

As I walked down the corridor, I saw a woman standing at the end, just before the exit door. Her presence struck me as odd, and an unsettling feeling began to creep over me. I called out, “Who’s there?” but she vanished almost immediately. I sighed in relief and pushed through the door, stepping out into the street.

What struck me as peculiar was how deserted the street was. It was a busy area, normally bustling with people even late at night. But tonight, it was completely empty. My exhaustion and hunger made me stumble slightly as I walked, and I kept my gaze fixed on the ground, hoping to avoid any further surprises.

Just as I neared my home, I noticed a shadow stretching out before me on the pavement. Despite the lack of people around, the shadow seemed to belong to someone walking in front of me. When I looked up, I saw a woman moving slowly ahead. Her gait was labored, and she appeared to be struggling with every step. She wore tattered, dirty clothes, and her hands and feet were twisted, adding to her disheveled appearance. Her hair was unkempt, and she looked as if she were in distress.

I felt a growing sense of dread. There was something deeply unsettling about her presence. My instincts screamed at me to keep my distance. I didn’t have the courage to pass her, so I slowed my pace, feeling an overwhelming urge to turn back.

When I finally caught up to her, I was so close I could see the fear in her eyes. She suddenly turned and asked, "Can you help me find my daughter?" Her voice was a haunting whisper, and I felt paralyzed by fear. I didn’t know how to respond. My mind went blank, and I couldn’t muster a coherent answer.

Panicking, I pointed to a distant spot, hoping to redirect her away from me. She hobbled in the direction I indicated, disappearing into the distance. As soon as she was out of sight, I sprinted away, my heart pounding in my chest. I felt a desperate need to find someone—anyone—who could help me or at least keep me company.

As I ran, I heard her scream from afar, her voice echoing with a chilling clarity. "She’s here!" The sound sent a shiver down my spine. I didn’t remember much after that; everything went black.

When I regained consciousness, I found myself lying on the ground. My neighbor had found me and brought me back home. In the days that followed, he shared a story that chilled me to the bone. In 1998, a woman named Agatha, aged 32, had a ten-year-old daughter who was a student at Eden Hill School. Tragically, her daughter died in an accident while playing with friends. The loss was unbearable for Agatha, and she couldn't cope with the grief.

Since then, Agatha's ghost has been sighted wandering around Eden Hill School and the surrounding area, endlessly searching for her lost child. The ghostly figure I had encountered that night was none other than Agatha, still mourning and hoping to reunite with her daughter.

The experience left me shaken, and I couldn’t shake the memory of that chilling encounter. Even now, whenever I pass by the school or walk alone at night, I can’t help but glance around, hoping not to see the haunted figure of a mother still searching for the child she lost so long ago.