When Brooke Denied to Stay With Bethany In Her House 😱
Brooke stood on the front porch, her fingers clenched tightly around the strap of her overnight bag. The house in front of her looked warm and inviting—yellow porch lights glowing softly, curtains swaying gently in the window—but something deep inside her screamed that she didn’t belong there.
Bethany smiled from the doorway.
“You’re finally here! Come in, Brooke. You must be exhausted.”
Brooke forced a smile but didn’t move.
“I… I can’t stay,” she said quietly.
Bethany’s smile froze.
“What do you mean you can’t stay?” she asked, laughing nervously. “It’s already dark. We planned this for weeks.”
Brooke swallowed hard. The memories she had tried to bury were clawing their way back to the surface.
A Friendship That Once Felt Safe
Brooke and Bethany had been best friends since high school. Sleepovers, secrets whispered at midnight, promises of forever—it all felt unbreakable back then. Bethany’s house had once been Brooke’s second home.
But that was before the night everything changed.
Three years ago, Brooke had stayed over during a storm. The power went out, the house went silent, and Brooke woke up to strange sounds—soft footsteps in the hallway, a door creaking open, and Bethany standing at the foot of the bed, staring at her.
Not blinking.
Not speaking.
When Brooke asked the next morning, Bethany laughed it off.
“You were probably dreaming.”
But Brooke knew she wasn’t.
Back on the Porch
“Brooke?” Bethany said gently now. “Why are you shaking?”
Brooke took a step back.
“I don’t feel safe here,” she admitted.
Bethany’s eyes darkened, just for a second—but Brooke noticed.
“That’s ridiculous,” Bethany replied. “This is my house. You’ve stayed here a hundred times.”
“Not since that night,” Brooke whispered.
Bethany’s smile returned, slower this time.
“You never let things go, do you?”
The Truth Comes Out
Brooke’s heart pounded.
“I heard you talking to someone,” she said. “But no one else was there. And the basement door—it was locked from the outside.”
Bethany’s face went pale.
“You weren’t supposed to remember that,” she said softly.
The porch light flickered.
“I needed you to stay that night,” Bethany continued. “I needed someone to see them too.”
Brooke felt the air turn cold.
“See who?” she asked.
Bethany leaned closer and whispered,
“They don’t like being ignored.”
The House Was Never Empty
The windows rattled violently. From inside the house came the sound of slow footsteps—heavy, deliberate.
Bethany stepped aside.
“Come in, Brooke. If you leave, they’ll follow you.”
Brooke’s fear turned into clarity.
“No,” she said firmly. “You invited them. Not me.”
She dropped her bag and ran down the steps, not daring to look back.
Behind her, Bethany screamed—not in anger, but in panic.
The Aftermath
Brooke never returned to that house.
A week later, the police said Bethany had vanished. The house stood abandoned, windows boarded up, the basement sealed permanently.
Sometimes, late at night, Brooke still hears a familiar voice in her dreams:
“Why didn’t you stay?”
But she knows now—
denying Bethany saved her life.
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