The hidden corridor
713 Words
Rain poured over Westbrook High as Maya hurried home, the folded note clutched tightly in her hand.
She didn't look back.
Not once.
But the uneasy feeling stayed with her.
It felt as though someone was walking just a few steps behind her.
Watching.
Waiting.
The moment Maya reached home, she locked the front door.
Her mother looked up from the kitchen.
"How was school?"
Maya forced a smile.
"It was... okay."
"You made any friends?"
"Yeah. A girl named Emma."
"That's wonderful."
Maya wanted to tell her everything—the mysterious notes, Locker 117, the shadow in the hallway.
But how could she?
It sounded unbelievable.
Instead, she headed upstairs and closed her bedroom door.
She pulled the two notes from her backpack and laid them side by side on her desk.
The first one read:
Stay away from Locker 117.
The second:
If you're reading this... it's already too late.
On the back was the chilling message:
Don't trust the person who smiles first.
Maya stared at the words.
Emma had smiled the moment they met.
So had Vice Principal Grant.
Even the history teacher had welcomed her with a smile.
Who was the note talking about?
That night, sleep refused to come.
At 11:43 p.m., Maya heard a soft tapping at her bedroom window.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Her heart raced.
Slowly, she walked toward the curtains.
She pulled them aside.
No one.
Just the rain.
She let out a nervous laugh.
"I'm imagining things."
Then she looked down.
On the windowsill outside lay a small folded piece of paper.
Someone had left it there.
Her hands trembled as she opened the window and picked it up.
The note contained only one sentence.
Meet me behind the gym tomorrow after school. Come alone.
No name.
No explanation.
The next morning, Maya arrived at school determined to ignore the note.
She wasn't going to walk into a trap.
As she entered the hallway, Emma waved.
"Good morning!"
Maya smiled weakly.
"Morning."
"You seem distracted."
"I'm just tired."
Emma studied her face for a moment.
"If something's wrong, you can tell me."
"I know."
But Maya said nothing.
She remembered the warning.
Don't trust the person who smiles first.
During English class, Mrs. Harrison announced a group project.
To Maya's surprise, she was paired with Jordan.
Jordan didn't look happy about it.
As they gathered their books, Maya quietly asked,
"Can we talk after class?"
Jordan hesitated.
"...About the locker?"
Maya blinked.
"How did you know?"
"Because you're not the first person who's asked questions."
Before Maya could respond, he added,
"And some people disappeared after asking them."
The words stayed with Maya all afternoon.
Disappeared.
Was Jordan exaggerating?
Or was he trying to warn her?
When the final bell rang, students rushed toward the exits.
Maya made a decision.
She was going behind the gym.
But she wasn't going to tell anyone.
The area behind the gym was quiet.
The rain had stopped, leaving puddles across the cracked pavement.
Maya checked the time.
3:42 p.m.
No one.
She waited.
3:45.
Still nothing.
Then...
Footsteps.
A figure emerged from behind a row of storage sheds.
It was Jordan.
"You?" Maya asked.
Jordan looked just as surprised.
"You got a note too?"
Maya frowned.
"You asked me to come here."
"I didn't."
He reached into his jacket pocket and unfolded a note.
It read:
Meet Maya behind the gym after school. Don't be late.
The handwriting matched Maya's note exactly.
Someone had tricked both of them into coming.
Jordan looked around nervously.
"We need to leave."
Before they could move, a loud metallic clang echoed from inside the gym.
Then another.
The side door slowly creaked open by itself.
Neither of them had touched it.
A cold breeze drifted out from the dark hallway beyond.
Jordan whispered,
"This wasn't an accident."
Maya nodded.
"I know."
Just then, they heard another sound.
A faint click.
Jordan looked down.
Something had landed at his feet.
Another folded note.
He picked it up and opened it.
His face lost all color.
"What is it?" Maya asked.
Without speaking, he handed her the paper.
It read:
You're both being watched.
The words had barely sunk in when they heard a camera shutter.
Click.
The sound came from somewhere
- Writer
