It was a typical school day when I noticed one of my students had stopped coming to class. At first, I thought it was just a temporary absence, but days turned into weeks, and he didn’t return. His name was Alex, a quiet but bright student who had always been on time and responsible. Concern grew in me, and I decided to visit his house to check on him.
As I arrived at his home, I noticed the neighborhood was quieter than usual. Alex’s house, once well-maintained, now appeared neglected, with overgrown weeds and an eerie stillness surrounding it. I knocked on the door, my heart racing with uncertainty. When there was no response, I tried the handle, finding it slightly ajar. Hesitant, I pushed the door open.
What I saw inside made my blood run cold. The house was in disarray, with broken furniture and empty, overturned containers scattered across the floor. But it was the strange silence that unsettled me the most. There was no sign of Alex. My mind raced with dread as I called out his name, but only an unsettling echo responded.
Suddenly, from the corner of the room, I spotted a piece of paper pinned to the wall. I approached it slowly and saw a cryptic message scrawled in what looked like red ink. “Don’t look for me.” The words sent a chill down my spine. Panic set in, and I quickly called the authorities.
It turned out that Alex had been hiding from something sinister, and my visit had uncovered a deeper, darker mystery. I never expected that a simple visit would reveal something so haunting and tragic, forever changing how I viewed the world around me.
