🏚 House Number 13

🏚 House Number 13

In a quiet neighborhood on the edge of town, where the streets were lined with blooming trees and children played until sunset, there stood a house that no one talked about — House Number 13.

It wasn’t haunted in the traditional sense. No bloodstains, no eerie screams in the night. But there was something about it — something that made people cross the street when they walked by. The windows were always closed. The blinds never moved. And though the grass was trimmed and the mailbox was empty, no one had seen anyone go in… or out.

Chapter 1: The Newcomer

Everything changed the day Lina, a quiet literature teacher in her early thirties, moved into the neighborhood. She was drawn to the area because of its calm atmosphere and proximity to the school. When the real estate agent offered her a great deal on House 13, she hesitated only briefly. “Just old superstitions,” she told herself, signing the papers.

The day she moved in, the neighbors stared from their windows, whispering behind curtains. Some children stopped their bikes at the end of the street, watching her carry boxes into the dark, silent house. An old man named Mr. Farrow, who lived across the street, approached her later that evening.

“You seem nice,” he said cautiously. “But that house… It doesn’t like visitors.”

She laughed, thinking he was joking. “Well, it’s stuck with me now.”

Mr. Farrow just nodded slowly and walked away without another word.

Chapter 2: Whispers in the Hall

The first few nights were uneventful — almost too peaceful. Lina unpacked, cleaned, and tried to ignore the creaking of the wooden floors and the odd flicker in the hallway lights. She blamed it on old wiring. But then, small things began to change.

Books she placed on shelves were found open the next morning. Her favorite teacup, always on the kitchen counter, moved from one room to another. Doors she’d locked were found slightly ajar. Still, she convinced herself she was just tired and distracted.

But one night, as she was reading in bed, she heard it.

A whisper.

Not outside. Not from the neighbors. But inside the house.

It was faint — like someone breathing words through the walls. She froze. The sound stopped. Then it came again:

“Go… back…”

Chapter 3: The Locked Room

Lina explored the house again the next morning. She discovered a small, locked door beneath the stairs — a door the real estate agent had claimed led to an old storage space. She had ignored it at first, but now it seemed to be the source of the whispering.

She searched the house until she found an old key hidden behind a loose brick in the fireplace. Her hand trembled as she inserted it into the rusty lock.

Click.

The door creaked open, revealing a narrow staircase that led down into darkness. With a flashlight in hand, Lina descended.

The air was cold. Damp. The basement was small, filled with broken furniture, torn paintings, and an antique mirror covered in a thick black sheet. At the center of the room was a single wooden chair, facing the mirror.

Curious and uneasy, Lina stepped closer and removed the sheet.

In the mirror, she didn’t see her reflection.

She saw a girl. Pale. Dressed in white. Standing in a room that looked just like the one she was in — but cracked, rotting, and full of shadows. The girl’s mouth moved slowly, silently. Then, for a brief moment, her eyes met Lina’s.

And Lina screamed.

Chapter 4: The History of Thirteen

Shaken, Lina sought answers. She visited the local library and searched records dating back decades.

House Number 13 had a history — one carefully erased from casual conversation. In 1978, a young girl named Annabelle Moore had lived there with her family. She disappeared mysteriously one night, and her parents were found days later in the basement — lifeless, eyes wide open, staring at the mirror.

The house was sealed. Abandoned. Until it was quietly put back on the market with no mention of its past.

Lina knew what she had seen.

Annabelle hadn’t left.

And she was trying to speak.

Chapter 5: The Choice

Over the following weeks, Lina communicated with the girl through the mirror. At night, she would sit before it, and Annabelle would appear. No longer frightening, but sad. Trapped.

Through silent gestures and visions, Lina understood: the girl’s soul was bound to the house — and only someone living inside it could break the curse.

It would mean staying. Accepting the strangeness. Protecting the house until the time was right.

Lina made her choice.

Epilogue: A New Beginning

Years passed. Lina never moved out.

Neighbors stopped whispering. Children returned to playing nearby. House Number 13 became part of the street again — strange, yes, but not feared.

Every now and then, late at night, Lina would still visit the mirror.

And smile.

Because Annabelle was no longer alone.

And neither was she.