I work in a school located far from the city, serving an underprivileged population in the almost rural outskirts of our town. My role primarily involves managing the library and occasionally assisting in the office, as I’ll explain later. I’ve always been fascinated by the academic environment, and I chose this job because it aligns with my interests – I love books, appreciate silence, and despite the occasional noise from children, their affection for reading warms my heart.
Currently, we’re in the midst of the vacation period, meaning the school is practically deserted. Only my colleague and I, a friendly lady I’ll call Cloe, continue working. Cloe and I discussed with our supervisor, and recently the principal allowed us to alternate our working days. Instead of both of us going to school every day, she goes on one day, and I go on the other. The upside is that I can also enjoy some vacation time, which is well-deserved. However, I feel a bit lost, as I am completely alone and not yet adept at administrative tasks since I am relatively new to the job. To clarify, I fulfill the role of an administrator and can perform two functions: library and office. While my official position is in the library, in case of need (such as if Cloe is sick or on leave), it’s also my duty to cover the office.
Initially, the silence was almost comforting. After spending a while in the school environment, it feels like the children’s laughter sticks to your ears, as if it’s always there. So, this quiet time serves as a detox from the sounds of children for me. However, after a week of alternating with Cloe, I have to confess it’s becoming somewhat uncomfortable. I constantly feel observed, sometimes swearing I see movements outside the window of the office counter. Yet, when I look, there’s no one there. The shift has become a torment, especially in the late afternoon (my working hours are from 9 to 6), when strange noises like things falling echo through the empty corridors.
These events have started to make me uneasy, but I hesitated to share them with anyone, thinking it might just be my imagination. On my day off, I received an urgent message from the principal. He informed me that there had been changes in the plans, and I should now attend school every day. I won’t deny feeling a bit frustrated, but technically, I should have been working every day, so I decided not to complain. However, before responding, I received another message explaining the reason for this, which was even worse: Cloe had disappeared. She wasn’t answering calls, and the principal planned to visit her at home to check on her situation. I got ready for bed and told him to send my regards to Cloe if he found her.
Upon arriving at the school the next day, though, I noticed something peculiar. The back entrance was unlocked, with the keys still in the lock from the inside. Maybe Cloe had a very serious emergency and forgot to lock up. “Or perhaps she tried to escape from something,” my mind teased me. Intrigued and a bit nervous, I cautiously entered the building and locked myself in the office. It was here that I began writing this account. You might be thinking that this type of situation should be reported to the local police rather than a supernatural forum, but one thing brings me here: Cloe and I communicated through a little notebook. Remember how I mentioned I’m new to the job? Well, she used to jot down the tasks I needed to do for the day. However, looking now in the drawer and flipping through the small pages, I see the last entry from the day she disappeared: “DON’T LISTEN!” is scribbled in almost illegible scrawls.
I wondered what I “shouldn’t listen to,” but I think I already know the answer. About 5 minutes ago, the lights began to flicker. Outside, it’s cold, and a constant drizzle falls from the gray sky. Once again, I started hearing noises in the corridors, but this time, it’s a female voice singing at a disturbingly slow pace one of the songs I often hear from the children here, which goes:
With a black gown flowing, hair like mist,
The ————, a ghostly twist.
Come along, kids, gather ‘round and see,
The ————, a mystery.
With silent steps, no sound to trace,
The ————, a phantom’s grace.
If you meet her, smile with might,
The ————, craves your light.
Come along, kids, gather ‘round and see,
The ————, a mystery.
The lullaby is getting closer and I no longer know if anyone can help me