Whispers Behind the Door

The dim glow of the evening light seeped through the curtains, casting eerie shadows along the walls. The house was quiet, except for the faint creaking of the wooden floor beneath their feet.
“Is she behind the door? Isn’t she?” the daughter asked, her voice trembling.

Her mother, sitting beside her, shook her head. “No, Mom, she isn’t behind the door. It was just your imagination. Please, come back to reality.”
But the grandmother wasn’t convinced. Her old, wrinkled hands clutched the edge of her chair, her eyes fixed on the slightly ajar door.
Didn’t lie,” the daughter whispered, barely audible. “Focus on the door. Look at it carefully-someone is behind it.”
The room fell silent. Even the air felt heavier, pressing down on them. The grandmother hesitated, her gaze flickering between her daughter and the door.
“Who, Mom? Don’t see anything,” she finally murmured. And then-
The door slammed shut. A sharp gasp escaped both women as their hearts pounded in their chests. The grandmother gripped her daughter’s hand tightly, her nails digging into her skin. From behind the door came a sound-a giggle. A child’s laughter, high-pitched and unsettling. Slowly, the door creaked open again, revealing a small figure standing in the shadows.
A little girl.
She wore a tattered white dress, her Iong, unkempt hair cascading down her pale face. Her lips curled into a wide, unnatural smile as she tilted her head.

The grandmother’s eyes widened in horror.
“N. this can’t be.”
The child stepped forward, her bare feet making no sound against the cold floor. Her empty eyes locked onto them, filled with something neither of them could understand. Malice? Sadness? The daughter felt her breath hitch in her throat as the little girl finally spoke.
“Are you happy, Mom?”

The words echoed in the silence, chilling them to their bones. The grandmother clutched her chest, her face draining of all color. This wasn’t just any child. This was her grandchild. But she had died years ago. The air turned frigid, the candlelight flickering violently as if struggling to stay alive. The child took another step forward, her laughter growing louder, filling every inch of the room.
The grandmother wanted to run. She wanted to scream. But she couldn’t.
Because deep down, she knew-
The ghost of her grandchild had finally come home.