Horror logo

The Forgotten Room:

Where Silence Waits, and Secrets Refuse to Die.

By The Writer...A_AwanPublished 2 months ago 3 min read

The house had always been atypical, but Elena by no means observed until she moved returned after her grandmother’s dying. It was the sort of region that carried its very own silence, heavy and unbroken, as even though the partitions themselves have been listening. She had grown up here, but something felt unique now—like the residence have been anticipating her go back.

On her 2nd night time, while exploring the upstairs hallway, she observed a door she didn’t don't forget. It become slim, tucked between two closets, its wooden darker than the rest. She frowned. She had performed in this hallway as a infant, strolling to and fro, and she or he was sure the door had never been there.

Curiosity gnawed at her. She became the knob. Locked.

The following morning, she searched the residence for a key. Drawers, packing containers, even her grandmother’s earrings chest—nothing. however the door lingered in her mind, whispering to her in silence. That night time, she dreamed of it. In her dream, the door opened without difficulty, and interior was a room full of shadows. A baby’s laughter echoed faintly, accompanied via a girl’s sobs. She woke trembling, her sheets damp with sweat.

Days handed, and the door became an obsession. She pressed her ear in opposition to it, hearing faint scratching, like nails towards wooden. once, she thought she heard her very own call whispered. She tried to ignore it, however the house regarded to conspire against her. lights flickered, photographs fell from partitions, and the air grew chillier near the door.

finally, she called a locksmith. the person labored silently, his forehead furrowed. when the lock clicked open, he stepped back quick, refusing to go into. “some doorways,” he muttered, “ought to stay closed.” He left with out another phrase.

Elena hesitated, then driven the door open.

The room become small, dirt swirling within the air. A unmarried chair sat within the middle, going through the wall. on the wall hung a replicate, cracked and stained. The ground become blanketed with antique toys—wood blocks, a doll missing its eyes, a ball that rolled slowly closer to her as though nudged by unseen palms.

She felt a sit back move slowly up her backbone. The mirror meditated now not her, but the room as it had once been: bright, full of children, laughter, and warmth. but then the reflection shifted. The kids vanished, changed by using shadows. A female regarded, her face light, her eyes hollow. She raised her hand and pointed immediately at Elena.

Elena stumbled again, heart pounding. The door slammed shut in the back of her.

She tried to depart, however the knob wouldn’t turn. Panic surged. The replicate started to ripple, and voices crammed the room—fragments of arguments, cries, whispers of regret. She identified her grandmother’s voice amongst them, pleading, “Don’t forget about us.”

The toys moved. The doll sat upright, its eyeless face became in the direction of her. The ball rolled again, preventing at her ft. The chair creaked as although a person invisible had sat down.

Elena pressed towards the door, determined to break out. however then she saw something inside the replicate—herself, standing within the room, but older, her hair gray, her eyes empty. The reflection whispered, “You belong here now.”

Tears blurred her vision. She shouted, “I don’t belong here!” but the voices most effective grew louder, overlapping, drowning her phrases. All at once, the door swung open. She stumbled into the hallway, gasping for air. The room become silent once more, the replicate nevertheless, the toys motionless. She slammed the door shut and locked it, her arms trembling.

however when she appeared down, she realized she changed into keeping some thing—a doll, the same eyeless one from the room. She hadn’t picked it up.

That night, she placed the doll on her cloth wardrobe. in the morning, it was gone. She determined it back in front of the forgotten room’s door, ready.

Elena understood then: the room wasn’t forgotten. It remembered the whole thing—each sorrow, each mystery, every soul that had entered. And now, it remembered her.

psychological

About the Creator

The Writer...A_Awan

16‑year‑old Ayesha, high school student and storyteller. Passionate about suspense, emotions, and life lessons...

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2026 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.