Afew days ago, my dad told us that he had just lost his job and the bills had pushed us into huge debts, which left us unable to afford our spacious apartment. He managed to find a new job, but it wasn’t as good as the last one.

Kindness always finds its way, and an old friend of Dad’s came forward to help. He arranged a small, affordable apartment near Dad’s new workplace.

It was a very old apartment. Pests lurked in the most unexpected places — on the toilet seat, crawling up the walls and even on top of an ancient fan that looked like it belonged to another century. The apartment looked like one of my worst nightmares.

One morning, after Dad left for work, Mum gave me a few chores to do before she went out to buy groceries. Being the only child, I had grown used to enjoying my own company. That afternoon, I was relaxing and watching my favourite series, The Summer I Turned Pretty. I was munching on a big pack of chips and sipping juice when I suddenly heard footsteps stomping through the narrow hallway.

At first, I ignored it, thinking it was probably just the old apartment creaking. But then, out of the corner of my eye, I was sure I saw a shadow slide across the wall. My chest tightened. I rushed to look, only for it to vanish. Still, I caught a glimpse — just for a moment.

I convinced myself I was imagining things. I was just not used to a new place and the apartment’s interior was very old. I went back to watching TV. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Relieved, I thought it must be Mum. I jumped up and ran to the door. Just to be sure, I leaned close and peered through the peephole. My blood turned to ice.

It wasn’t Mum. It was the shadowy figure. Terrified but trying to be brave, I opened the door. There was nothing. No footsteps, no one, just a lingering silence that felt heavier than any sound. I quickly shut the door and ran to the living room to get my phone.

I called Mum, but the line was busy. I tried again and again, but couldn’t get through. Worried, I called Dad, but his number was busy too.

Petrified, I started looking around the apartment, checking every corner. Trying to calm myself, I returned to the living room and sat on the couch. For a while, nothing happened. I quietly munched on my snack — and then I heard a thud. Horrified, I turned around only to see a mannequin. I was panic-stricken because I had never seen that mannequin in the living room before.

“Maybe I hadn’t paid enough attention to that corner near Dad’s bookshelf,” I thought. I tried to ignore it, but then I noticed it had moved. Slowly, I turned my head and I saw it move.

I screamed and ran into my room, locking the door. Suddenly, I heard knocking again. Realising someone was outside the apartment, I let out a sigh of relief and rushed to open the door. Before stepping out, I noticed the mannequin wasn’t in the living room anymore. The knocking grew louder. I finally opened the door and froze.

The same mannequin was standing there. I stumbled backwards, but at that moment, the mannequin toppled over. I screamed my lungs out and felt a sharp pain in my head.

My eyes squeezed shut as I clutched my head, shrieking. Then I saw myself lying on the floor — I had fallen off the bed while sleeping.

Published in Dawn, Young World, October 18th, 2025