The Haunted Closet
It all started on a cloudy Wednesday at Westfield Middle School. Connor, Liam, and William sat by the lockers, exchanging whispers about the school’s most persistent rumor. "The old supply closet," Connor said, his voice low but electric. "They say it’s haunted. Strange noises, lights at night." Liam adjusted his glasses, skeptical as always. "It’s probably just old pipes. But I guess there’s only one way to find out." William shrugged, his tall frame leaning casually against the wall. "You’re both crazy, but fine. Let’s check it out." After school, when the halls emptied and shadows stretched long, the trio slipped into the basement. The air was damp, thick with the smell of mildew. Connor fumbled with a bobby pin at the rusted padlock. It clicked open. "Told you I could do it," he said, pushing the creaky door open. A dim, cluttered room greeted them, filled with broken chairs and yellowing papers. But what caught their attention was ...