CHAPTER THREE — The Warning
1353 Words
My hands were shaking as I held the little faded note. The words felt like ice on my skin.
For a moment I just stared at the handwriting. The letters were rushed, almost shaky, like the person who wrote it didn’t have time to breathe. The ink was faded, but the pressure on the paper was deep, like the writer had pressed down too hard… or like their hand was trembling. A strange prickling ran down my neck, the kind that made me feel like someone was standing behind me even though the office was empty.
Run before night comes.
Dorm 7 never lets two Halimas stay.
For a moment, everything in the office felt too still.
Too silent.
Like the room was holding its breath with me.
Then—
Footsteps.
I panicked, shoved the note into my pocket, and straightened up just as the door swung open.
It wasn’t the principal.
It was Rita.
Her face was pale and sweaty, her braids half-scattered like she ran all the way here.
I’d never seen Rita look like that before — not even during punishment runs or senior wahala. Her eyes were wide and shiny, like she’d been crying or seen something she couldn’t understand. Even her voice came out in little broken breaths, and her hands kept twitching like she wasn’t sure if she should pull me or hide behind me.
“Hallie!” she whispered loudly. “What are you still doing here?!”
“The principal said I should stay—”
“Forget that!” Rita grabbed my wrist. “Something is wrong. Everybody is talking in the hostel. You need to come now.”
“But—”
“No buts,” she snapped, her voice shaking. “Please.”
I’d never heard Rita sound afraid before.
Not like this.
I let her pull me out of the office block. Students were whispering everywhere — small groups scattered around, pointing at Dorm 7 like it was suddenly a zoo cage.
“What happened?” I asked, trying to keep up.
As we rushed across the compound, the red sand kicked up behind us and the wind carried the smell of beans and smoke from the dining hall. Everywhere we passed, girls paused mid-conversation just to stare at me. Some whispered behind their hands. One girl even grabbed her friend’s arm and pointed at me like I was a visitor from another planet. Their eyes felt heavy on my skin, like they knew something I didn’t.
Rita swallowed. “They said… they said someone saw… something.”
“Something like what?”
“Like—”
She stopped. Looked around. Lowered her voice.
“Someone that looked… exactly like you.”
My lungs forgot how to work.
“What do you mean exactly like me? Who saw—”
Before I could finish, two JSS3 girls ran past us yelling, “They’ve locked the hostel! Senior Shade said nobody should enter!”
Rita dragged me faster. “Come and see first.”
We reached Dorm 7, but the entrance was blocked by a crowd of students, house prefects and even a matron who looked like she was about to faint.
The matron was holding a bucket the way people hold weapons when they know it won’t help.
For a second, I couldn’t help wondering what exactly she planned to do with a bucket. Pour water on a ghost? Catch it inside like a chicken? The thought would’ve been funny if the fear around us wasn’t so thick it felt like smoke in my lungs. The matron kept shifting the bucket from one hand to the other, her fingers trembling so badly the metal kept clinking.
“What’s happening?” someone asked.
The matron’s voice trembled. “No one goes inside until the principal returns.”
Girls started whispering loudly:
“Is it a thief?”
“Spirit?”
“Is it true it looked like the new girl?”
“Which new girl?”
“The one with the scarf. Halima something—”
My heart dropped into my stomach. Rita moved in front of me protectively.
Then suddenly — the crowd gasped.
Because the dorm door, which was fully closed before…
creaked open.
Very, very slowly.
My stomach twisted. The sound was soft, almost gentle, but it felt wrong — like the door wasn’t opening from this side. Like something inside was pulling it. I felt a bead of cold sweat roll down my back. The air around us suddenly felt heavier, thicker, as if the whole hostel was holding its breath along with us.
No wind.
No hand.
Just… opening.
Someone screamed.
Some girls ran.
A junior fainted dramatically like she was in a Nollywood movie.
The matron shouted, “Everybody stay back!” but even she took three steps away.
Rita’s fingers dug into my arm.
“Hallie… don’t go near that door.”
But something was pulling my attention.
My bunk window.
My exact window.
The curtain inside moved…
even though the windows were shut.
And I swear — I swear — for a split second, a shadow shaped like a girl my size stood there.
Watching.
Then vanished.
For a heartbeat I couldn’t move. The shape hadn’t walked or faded — it had just… dissolved, like smoke sucked into an invisible mouth. But something about the way it stood, the tilt of the head, the smallness of the shoulders — it felt familiar in a way that made my bones ache. It felt like looking into a broken mirror, seeing a version of myself I didn’t recognize.
Just gone.
Like smoke being swallowed.
My knees felt weak. Rita held me tighter.
“Hallie… we need to tell the principal what you saw yesterday night.”
I shook my head. “She’ll think I’m crazy.”
“Maybe,” Rita said. “But crazy is better than disappearing.”
Before I could answer, the principal appeared, storming toward the dorm with two male security officers behind her.
Girls scattered like ants.
Even the security men didn’t look confident. One was gripping his torchlight so tightly his knuckles turned white. The other kept blinking too quickly, shifting from foot to foot like he wanted to be anywhere else. The principal marched forward, her shoes hitting the concrete with sharp clicks that echoed across the compound.
The principal looked furious — but when her eyes landed on me, her expression changed.
Just slightly.
Worried.
Scared.
And something else I couldn’t name.
“Halima,” she said, “come with me.”
My heart pounded. “Ma—”
“Now.”
Rita squeezed my hand before I followed the principal.
But as I stepped forward, the dorm door — still hanging open — whispered.
Not loudly.
Not clearly.
But enough for only me to hear.
“Don’t let them separate us.”
The voice sounded like mine.
But older.
And sad.
I froze. My breath caught in my throat.
My feet refused to move. Part of me wanted to run to Rita and hide behind her. Another part wanted to turn around and enter the dorm to see what was calling me. My heart was pounding so loudly I could barely hear the crowd anymore. The whisper seemed to stick to my ears, like someone had leaned close and spoken directly into my mind
The principal turned back. “Halima? What are you waiting for?”
“Nothing, ma…”
But I couldn’t shake the words echoing in my head:
Don’t let them separate us.
Don’t let them separate us.
Why would the ghost sound like it didn’t want to hurt me?
Why did it sound… desperate?
And why did it feel like everything happening now…
has happened before?
A strange chill slid through me, not from fear but from recognition — like some forgotten memory was knocking softly from inside my skull, begging to be remembered. And for the first time since arriving at Victory Girls, I had the horrible feeling that whatever was in Dorm 7… wasn’t just connected to me.
It was waiting for me
- Writer
