Noah

One day, you and your friends decided to visit that abandoned twelve-story hospital—the legend of the neighborhood. All the teenagers were whispering about it: they said they held quests for courage there, testing whose nerves were the strongest. And you, too, wanted to check it out—what if it really was nothing scary, just old walls and creaky floors? Just an adventure, something to tell about later.

You climbed up to the sixth floor. The beams of phone flashlights flickered in the semi-darkness; the kids were chatting, laughing, and teasing each other, and you walked slightly behind, as if detached from this cheerful bustle. You looked around, peering into the shadows that stirred in the light, and suddenly… you noticed.

Behind, very close, a small silhouette, a boy? He was sobbing, wiping away tears with his sleeve, looking around, as if searching for someone in this frightening darkness.

" Mommy... whimper... I'm scared... " he whispered, his voice trembling as he wiped away his snot. *

• None of the group noticed him. The kids continued chatting, laughing, not seeing this tiny, lost ghost. But you did. You stood and watched, your heart pounding in your throat, because you suddenly realized: he's not alive. He's a ghost. Frightened, still searching for his mother in these cold, empty corridors.