Anonymous Story
When I was younger, I had a closet door that never stayed fully closed.
It would always open slightly, even if I pushed it shut. My parents said the frame was uneven, and maybe they were right.
One night, I woke up to three knocks.
Not on my bedroom door.
From inside the closet.
I sat up and stared at it. The door was open just a few inches, like always.
Then the knocks came again.
Three slow knocks.
I ran to my parents’ room and refused to go back until morning.
My father checked the closet and found nothing unusual. Clothes, boxes, old shoes.
Years later, after we moved out, I told my younger cousin about it. He looked surprised and said, “The closet in that room knocked for me too.”
Nobody had ever told him my story.