It was started on a quiet Tuesday night for Ethan, an average 16 year old Americans teenager living in suburban Ohio. His life was unremarkable, school, video games and hanging out with friends. But that changed when he began to feel something beneath his bed.
At first, it felt like a tremor. The wooden frame of his bed shook violently startling him awake. He sat up heart pounding. He set up heart pounding, convinced there had been an Earthquake, but when he called out to his family, they dismissed it, "No Earthquakes reported" his dad said from the hallway, yawning confused, but relieved Ethan choked it up to a bad dream and went back to sleep.
The next evening, while lying on his stomach scrolling, through funny videos on YouTube, the shaking returned this time. It wasn't subtle, his entire body jolted as if someone or something was tugging at the mattress. Then came the chilling sensation....his blanket being pulled slowly towards the edge of the bed, frozen with fear Ethan started walking around the room, searching for any explanation; gathering every ounce of courage, he leaned over and peered under the bed. Nothing just dust bunnies and forgotten socks shaken, but unwillingly to admit defeat, Ethan told his mom about what happened. She sighed, patting him on the shoulder "You have been staring at screens too long," she said firmly. "Your brain is tired. Go get some fresh air". Ethan try to shake off the unease.
For the third night in a row, he stayed alert, determined not to let his imagination run wild. Nothing happened, no shaking, no voices, no eerie sensations. As relief washed over him, his phone buzzed, a video call from his cousin's, sister Lily. They chatted casually until Lily's face suddenly froze mid- laugh. Her smile faded into wide-eyed terror. Who? Who's behind you? she stammered. Ethan's blood ran cold. Slowly, he turned his head. A dark shadow flickered across the corner of the room before vanishing completely. When he looked back at the screen, the call had disconnected, and his phone lost signal entirely. Panic gripped him as he scrambled to reconnect, but nothing worked. Frustrated, he got up and walked to the window, hoping to catch a bar of service. That's when he heard it, a whisper so faint it could have been the wind. Yet, it was unmistakably female, rasping directly into his ear, "leave this room, now!" Spinning around, Ethan saw movement near his bed. A white cloth fluttered briefly, revealing the silhouette of a woman standing beside it. Before he could scream, she vanished without a trace. Overcome by sheer terror, Ethan bolted out of his room, shouting for help. His parents and siblings rushed in, finding him trembling uncontrollably. For once, his mother didn't dismiss him. Seeing her usually brave,son tears unnerved her deeply. That night, she insisted he sleep in their room.
For 7 days, everything seemed normal again. Ethan even began to wonder if his mind had played tricks on him. But his father, ever practical, urged him to return to his own room. There's no such thing as ghosts, he declared confidently. Don't let fear control you. Reluctantly, Ethan agreed.
The first night back, he slept soundly, free of disturbances. It wasn't until 3 am, when his mother decided to check on him, that things took a horrifying turn. She opened the door quietly, careful not to wake him. The room was dimly lit by moonlight streaming through the window. At first glance, everything appeared fine, until she noticed the figure lying next to Ethan on the bed. It was a woman dressed in flowing white, her hair cascading over the pillow. Heart racing, his mother fumbled for the light switch. When the overhead bulb flickered on, the bed was empty. Not just empty, the room itself was deserted. There was no sign of Ethan anywhere. Desperation clawed at her as she searched frantically throwing open closet doors and checking under the bed. The bathroom was empty too. Finally, she felt a cold breeze brush against her skin. Turning sharply, she saw the window wide open, curtains billowing outward and then she heard a soft giggle echoing from somewhere close by, followed by Ethan's voice, weak and distant, saying, "Mom, I think she took me." His mother screamed, calling for her husband. Together they scoured the house, but Ethan was gone. Police were called, neighbors questioned, posters printed, but no leads emerged.
Days turned into weeks, and hope dwindled.
One year later, Ethan's younger sister, Mia, moved into his old room. On her first night, she woke up to find her blanked being pulled gently towards the edge of the bed. Terrified, she kicked it away and crawled out of bed, ready to flee but as she glanced down, she froze. Underneath the bed, two familiar hands reached out grabbing her ankles and then Ethan's voice whispered coarsely from the darkness below, "I'm still here". Mia never spoke again.