The Girl in the Window

It all started with a boy named Ravi. He was 12, quiet, loved drawing, and had just moved into a very old house with his parents in a small village. The house had peeling wallpaper, creaky wooden floors, and—this is important—a single narrow window in his bedroom, facing the woods behind the house.

From the moment he moved in, Ravi felt something strange about that window. In the day, it was just trees and sky. But at night, it was different. He said the shadows outside seemed too still. Like they were... waiting.

On the very first night, at exactly 3:33 a.m., Ravi woke up with a shiver. It wasn’t cold. It was something else. His skin felt like it remembered something before his mind did. You know that feeling, right? Like your body’s scared before you even know why?

He turned to face the window.

And that’s when he saw her.

A pale girl. Maybe about his age. Long, messy black hair covering most of her face. But he could tell—she was looking right at him.

She didn’t move. She just stood there, outside his window, eyes wide, head slightly tilted. And the weirdest part?

There were no footprints in the snow beneath her.

Ravi sat frozen for minutes, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. Then, like she’d heard it, the girl slowly lifted one hand… and tapped on the window.

Three times.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

He screamed. His parents came running, but when they looked, there was nothing there. No girl. No marks. Just the silent woods.

Of course, they told him it was a bad dream. Just nerves about the new house. But Ravi knew what he saw. And the next night, it happened again.

Same time: 3:33 a.m.
Same girl.
Same tap-tap-tap.

But this time, when she tapped, the glass cracked slightly. Just a hairline fracture, like a tiny lightning bolt.

Ravi stopped sleeping. He kept lights on. Curtains closed. But no matter what he did, she still came. And every night, the crack in the glass grew just a little longer.

One night, Ravi tried to draw her, thinking maybe it would help him process what was happening. But when he started sketching her face, his hand wouldn’t move right. It was like someone else was guiding the pencil. When he finished, he stared at the drawing—and realized—

She was standing inside the room in the picture.

Not outside.

He tore it up. Burned it in the fireplace. But the next night, she was closer to the window. Her eyes were clearer now. They weren’t just looking. They were hungry.

At school, Ravi’s friends noticed he looked worse every day. Pale. Tired. Twitchy. He told one friend—Amira—what was happening. She was brave, curious, and a little reckless. She said she’d spend the night at his house and see for herself.

Ravi didn’t want to. But he also didn’t want to be alone anymore.

So that Friday, Amira came over. They stayed up with flashlights and waited.

The clock hit 3:33 a.m.

Nothing.

Amira turned to Ravi. “Maybe she’s shy.”

Then came the tap. tap. tap.

Both of them turned toward the window.

She was there.

But now—she was smiling.

Amira gasped. “She’s real—Ravi—she’s real—”

The girl raised her hand again, but instead of tapping, she pressed her palm flat against the window.

The glass shattered.

But instead of falling inward, the shards stayed floating in the air—like time itself paused—and the girl stepped through them.

Not into the room. Into the mirror beside the bed.

Ravi and Amira screamed, but no sound came out. It was like their voices were sucked out of the air.

The girl turned in the mirror, looked back at them—and whispered something neither of them could hear, but somehow understood:

"Let me in... or I'll take your place."

They ran.

Their screams returned only after they reached the hallway. His parents woke up. But again—when they checked—there was nothing there.

Except...

The mirror in Ravi’s room now showed a reflection that wasn’t his.

The next day, Amira did some digging. She found out something creepy: over a hundred years ago, a girl named Elsbeth lived in the same house. She went missing after her parents locked her in her room for “talking to things in the mirror.” Her body was never found. But the rumor was she made a deal—with something evil—that if she could trap another soul in her place, she could walk free.

And since then, there have been whispers about kids seeing a girl in the window.

Always at 3:33 a.m.

Ravi and Amira tried everything to get rid of her. Salt around the window. Breaking the mirror (it only came back, whole, the next morning). Even moving rooms—didn’t matter. She always came to that window.

One night, Ravi didn’t wake up at 3:33.

He woke up at 7.

The window was wide open.

And in the reflection of the mirror—

He was gone.

Instead, the girl was there.

Smiling.

Wearing his pajamas.

Amira never saw Ravi again. His parents said he ran away. But every night, she checks her own window.

Just in case.

Because sometimes, she swears, she sees him now.

But he's the one tapping.