The Corner Room

It was hot.

It was sweltering hot.

The sun was at its peak and here I was out with my roommate, Chinsi, searching for a new room to move to. The room we currently resided in was haunted enough that I didn't need another encounter with a ghost to convince me to switch rooms.

"What about the corner room?" I asked Chinsi.

"Are you sure? I haven't heard anyone using that room since forever." She looked around, taking in the surroundings while trying to match my step.

There wasn't much to see; in all honesty, this hostel was a playground for all things paranormal. And it was so common that we had become used to seeing apparitions or floating figures. That didn't mean it didn't scare the shit out of us.

We had a few rules while staying in this hostel. And fewer that we obeyed no matter what. They were like this:

1 - Never go to the bathroom alone

2 - Never open your dorm door after 12pm (No matter what)

3 - Never go to the terrace

4 - If you feel someone is following you in an empty hallway, RUN

Now, you might think these are some odd rules, and who would live in such a haunted place? I'll get to that in some time.

This hostel was built during the British era, during colonization. So, yay, horror times, but this hostel was made for nursing students behind one of the most renowned hospitals of that time, which still exists to this day.

And here we are, the current nursing students, trying to find a semi-to-non-haunted room in this blasted hostel. Wish us luck.

"I think we should have asked the warden; she would have made some arrangements for us," Chinsi said, looking at me, hoping her statement would end our search. I snorted.

It was as if the demon of a warden would help us two second-year students change our dorm rooms, no less in the middle of the semester.

"We have a better chance of going home on a 3-day leave rather than asking for a change in the room." I waved my hand, dismissing the notion.

"Well, why did you bring up the corner room?" Chinsi asked.

"Someone suggested it to me," I replied trying to sound casual.

To be honest, there was a reason I had suggested the room. This hostel was also connected to a missionary, and I, being a person of faith, had been a regular visitor. My first year here was with no acquaintances, and the new surroundings left me feeling a little out of my element, which led me to go to the one place I could be without anyone judging or disturbing my peace.

The missionary provided me with just that. There, I would go and talk with the sisters. I had become quite friendly with them in a short while. One sister, in particular, was an absolute enigma. She would sit in her wheelchair in the backyard, where, generally, no one would venture. Knitting something in blue, I had struck up a conversation, hoping to elevate her mood, but she had just given me a look and went back to knitting.

Days went by, and I stopped the missionary wherever I got time; I had a few friends by then. My life was going well; the classes were tough, but nothing I couldn't handle.

During this time, I became quick friends with Sister Paula. She was a kind soul who always encouraged me to remain in prayer and believe in the almighty. She also gave surprisingly accurate predictions. One day, I was late to my class and coincidentally ran into her when she stopped me and told me to go back and change my shoes.

I smiled and thanked her for her advice, telling her I couldn't because I was already late and that I would be fine.

I was not fine.

I had slipped while climbing the third floor, and down I went like Jill, who tumbled after Jack. And this was just one of the instances. Coincidence. That was what I kept telling myself until I was proven wrong. But that's also a story for another time.

The reason why I had suggested the corner room was because Sister Paula had suggested I take a look at it.

So here we were going to take a look at our potential next dorm room. The corner room was a clean but non-inhabited room for some reason no one had lived there for a long time.

The room was located at the very end to the right, where plenty of sunlight streamed in from the corridor, but something felt off. I looked at Chinsi; she felt it, too.

You see, when you live in a paranormal-infested area, you start picking up on stuff that you normally would have ignored, like how, despite all the light, the door of the corner room was shrouded in eerie darkness.

We already had the key to the corner room, which our demon of a warden gave to us after much cajoling. However, she had warned us that we were better in our current room.

Yeah, right, tell that to me again when you have a ghost sitting at the foot of your bed looking straight at you with its pale ghostly eyes. Never was I willing to return to my room. I still could feel the eyes looking at me.

A shudder passed through me as we reached the corner room. I slotted the key in the door and opened it. It creaked a lot. Chinsi followed closely after me, ready to be at least two arms distance from me.

The moment I stepped into the center of the living room, my senses screamed at me to get out of there. OUT OUT OUT, GET OUT OF HERE!

I didn't know how, but I could feel my skin crawl at the malice that I was feeling standing here; the darkness inside the room sucked in the light that filtered through the windows. That wasn't how light was supposed to work. It was supposed to brighten the place, not whatever that was happening here. I looked back at Chinsi; she looked positively ill.

"We should at least look at the entire room before going out," she said. Every fiber in my body disagreed with that statement, but we had come here to find the next room. It'd be bloody awful if we didn't see what the fuss was about.

"We make it quick?" I asked.

"Quicker than the time we swapped answer sheets." Her weak attempt at humor actually encouraged me to step in further. We stomped our way through the small passage that connected the two bedrooms and the kitchen opposite: the bathroom and washroom.

To the end of the passage was a single door that was open to the relatively huge gallery where the presence of whatever was there felt the strongest. We unanimously decided to skip the gallery and gave a quick glance at the rooms and kitchen; it had the same feeling the dust that was there, instead of being settled, was lingering in the air as if stopped in time.

I opened the washroom only to find it covered with the ugliest green moss, which took up most of the space. I felt like throwing up. Chinsi was tugging at my sleeves frantically.

"I think we have seen enough; let's go," she said, her eyes pleading.

I nodded. The air felt heavy, and we made our way to the door; that is when we heard it. A loud bang. I turned just in time to see the gallery door opening and closing. BANG, BANG, BANG!

There had been no wind; it was bloody hot outside. Chinsi grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the room. I remember her yelling don't look back, just run.

When we stepped out of the run, we both breathed hard. The air felt heavy, so we left the door as is and ran. Don't look back.

That was the only thing I kept in my mind as I ran.

The next day, when I went to return the key to the corner room, I couldn't find it anywhere. So I asked Chinsi if she had seen it. She had just shook her head before laying on her bed and going back to sleep. So, I decided it would be better to go to the warden and ask for forgiveness for losing the key than step into that godforsaken place to look for it.

Detention felt like heaven as compared to whatever it was that resided in the corner room.

I stood outside the warden's room, waiting my turn to enter, when I went inside and apologized for losing the key. The warden gave me a puzzled look and told me to get out because there was no way I would be handed the key because the warden was on leave yesterday, and even if she wasn't, she couldn't have handed me a key that didn't exist.

I ran out primarily because I didn't want to wait for the warden's mood to shift and put me in detention. And also because none of it made sense, because I clearly did have a key and it was given to me by the warden along with a warning at that.

I just shook my head; maybe she had forgotten. "Maeve, what are you doing out so late in the evening? You have a curfew to maintain, don't you?" I turned to come face to face with Sister Paula. I looked about and found myself on the missionary grounds. I blinked. Had I walked to the missionary? I couldn't remember my walk here. Weird.

"Maeve, are you alright child? You look lost." She gently patted my arm, trying to get my attention. Just when I was about to excuse myself and head back, I remembered.

Of course, Sister Paula was the first person who suggested that I check out that room. My lucky stars seemed to be aligned for such a coincidence to occur. "Sister Paula, why did you suggest I visit the corner room when I told you I was searching for a change in my dorm room?"

Sister Paula had the same look that the warden had. "What are you saying, child? I would never suggest you to visit that room! It is cursed, so stay away from it!"

But that wasn't possible. She suggested I visit the corner room. "Why do you say so?" I needed answers; this was all too bizarre, even by the paranormal standards that we face occasionally.

We, as students, stay here not only because it is the cheapest place to stay but also because our college allotted it to us until we finish our nursing degree. It is the only place some of us have; therefore, we have no choice but to adapt.

I thought I had adopted pretty well since last year. Oh, how wrong I was. The answer that followed was a witness to it.

"Why, what do you mean, why, child? Haven't you heard the stories?" she looked incredulous when I shook my head as a no. Sighing, she continued, "Years ago, the room belonged to a very kind nun. It was one of the best in the building. There was plenty of sunlight, and she loved sitting in the gallery knitting while enjoying the view. I'm not sure how true this reigns, but her kindness came to stab her in the back when a fellow nun pushed her down the gallery in a fit of jealousy. Some say she was killed; some stories say that she was crippled and later killed herself from the same gallery by jumping down. But there have been reports of suicides even after the room is locked. No one knows how the victims entered as the key of the corner room was lost long ago."

"Anyhow, I want you to stay away from the room. I know you have many questions; sadly, I don't have the answers, only rumors and speculations passed down through people who've lived here long enough. So stop thinking about it and promise me that you will never talk or even think of the corner room." Sister Paula gripped my hands in her shaking hands as she forced me to look into her eyes and make the promise.

How could I tell her that I did something much worse than thinking or talking about the corner room I had? Along with my friend Chinsi, I stepped into the room, did a full review of the flat, and ran out as if we had a wild beast on our trail.

I simply nodded and said a quick goodbye while making my way to the hostel. Just as I turned around the corner, I saw a figure sitting in a wheelchair, knitting a piece of cloth. It was the same nun I had seen a few the last time I had visited the missionary. I felt myself pause as the figure turned its head and stared me dead in the eye before a creepy smile stretched into the nun's face.

I felt my heart rate increase as I forced myself to move, and then I ran. I didn't turn back. I didn't look anywhere as I returned to the hostel. Holding onto the railing, I started climbing the stairs. Chinsi, yes, I had to tell her about this. When I stopped and looked up, I couldn't believe my eyes.

I was right in front of the door of the Corner Room.

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The End