Where There's Smoke
In my first year of high school, I was a transfer student. I had practiced some rituals that I got from my cousins. I used to bang the cubicle doors in the restroom when no one was around.
One day, after I had banged on the doors for a few minutes, I looked up at the mirror and noticed that it was foggy and cloudy as if a fire had passed the sink. I cleared some of the fog to see myself clearly. But while wiping the mirror's surface, I smelled smoke in the air, and the lights turned on and off a couple of times. Pretending not to be scared, I hummed a song that our teacher taught us. Suddenly, I felt that I was not alone anymore, and I realized that somebody else was also humming the same song!
The teenager’s voice was coming from the last cubicle. I stooped down to see if anybody was there, but I didn’t see anyone. When I stood up, to my horror, I saw a pair of burnt hands holding the upper handle of the cubicle door! My jaws dropped open, and I ran out as fast as I could. I didn’t stick around to see whether or not she was real.
