Whispers in the Walls: The Dormitory's Silent Scream

The rain poured down like a relentless beast, pounding against the window of Room 314. Inside, a young woman named Emily, with her eyes wide with fear, sat on the edge of her bed. She had only been at the university for a week, but the whispers of the dormitory's past had already begun to unsettle her.

Emily had chosen Room 314 because of its price, the cheapest on the dormitory floor. But the cheapest rooms were often the most haunted, a saying that had spread like wildfire among the students. She had ignored the warnings, but now, she was not so sure.

The whispers started as faint, barely audible sounds, like the rustling of leaves in a gentle breeze. But as the night wore on, they grew louder, more insistent. They seemed to come from everywhere, echoing through the walls, the floorboards, and the air itself.

"Who's there?" Emily called out, her voice trembling. The whispers grew louder, but there was no reply. She stood up, her heart pounding, and moved closer to the door. She could feel the coldness seeping through the walls, a chill that made her shiver.

The door creaked open, and Emily's breath caught in her throat. She saw nothing, but she felt the presence, a darkness that seemed to fill the room. She turned around, searching for the source, but there was nothing. The whispers had stopped.

The next morning, Emily met her roommate, a girl named Lily, who had been at the university for two years. Lily had heard the whispers too, but she had become accustomed to them, treating them as just another oddity of the dormitory.

"Have you heard the whispers?" Emily asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lily nodded. "Yeah, they've been here since I moved in. They say it's because of the old student who died here. They say he's trapped in the dormitory, trying to warn us."

Emily's eyes widened. "A student died here?"

Lily nodded. "Yeah, a few years ago. He was found in his room, dead of a heart attack. They say he was stressed, overwork, but no one really knows for sure."

As the days passed, Emily became more and more fascinated by the whispers and the story of the student. She began to spend her evenings researching the dormitory's history, reading old newspaper articles and student forums.

One night, as she sat in the library, she stumbled upon a photograph of the student, a young man with a kind smile. The caption read, "John Doe, a promising student at the university, died mysteriously in his dormitory room."

Emily's heart raced. "John Doe," she whispered. It was the same name she had heard in the whispers.

That night, she decided to visit the dormitory room where John Doe had lived. She found the room at the end of the hall, the door slightly ajar. She pushed it open and stepped inside.

The room was small, with a single bed, a desk, and a small window. Emily walked over to the bed, her eyes scanning the room for anything out of place. But there was nothing. The room was as ordinary as any other dormitory room.

Suddenly, the whispers started again, louder and more insistent than ever before. Emily turned around, searching for the source, but there was no one there. She felt the coldness seep through the walls, and she knew that she was not alone.

She turned back to the bed, and that's when she saw it. A faint outline of a figure, a young man with a kind smile, standing next to the bed. Emily's heart raced, but she didn't scream. Instead, she reached out and touched the figure.

The whispers stopped, and the figure vanished. Emily stepped back, her eyes wide with shock. She had seen John Doe, the student who had died here, trapped in the dormitory, his spirit unable to rest.

The next morning, Emily met with the university's counselor, hoping to find a way to help John Doe find peace. The counselor listened to her story, his eyes filled with concern.

"We have a program," he said. "A program to help spirits find peace. If you're willing, we can try to help John Doe."

Emily nodded, her heart filled with hope. She had found a way to help John Doe, to free him from the dormitory that had trapped him for so long.

The next night, as she sat in the dormitory room, she felt the presence of John Doe again. But this time, it was different. The whispers were gone, replaced by a sense of calm.

"Thank you," John Doe said, his voice clear and strong. "Thank you for helping me find peace."

Emily smiled, tears streaming down her face. She had helped John Doe, and in doing so, she had also found peace for herself.

From that night on, the whispers in Room 314 ceased to be. The dormitory was no longer haunted, and Emily and Lily continued to live there, free from the shadows that had once haunted them.

But the story of John Doe and the whispers in the walls would never be forgotten, a reminder that sometimes, the past can reach out and touch the present, leaving its mark on those who dare to listen.