Rahul was returning home on a late-night bus that was almost empty. Only two passengers sat quietly, and the rest of the seats were vacant. Rahul chose a window seat, but something strange caught his eye — Seat Number 17, right beside him, kept
making a faint creaking sound as if someone had just sat down.
He looked carefully.
The seat was empty.
A cold breeze brushed against his arm, though all the windows were shut. Rahul tried to ignore it, but the creaking grew louder, now in a slow rhythm, like the movements
of a breathing person. His heartbeat quickened.
When the conductor walked toward him, Rahul pointed at the seat and asked, “Is someone sitting here?”
The conductor froze.
He whispered, “Sir, that seat has been empty for years… Nobody sits there
anymore. A girl died on that seat in an accident. Since then, passengers often feel someone sitting there.”
Rahul’s blood ran cold.
Before he could respond, a soft voice came from right beside his ear—
“Don’t let him lie… I never left.”
Rahul turned in terror. The seat was still empty…
But the outline of a woman slowly appeared, staring at him with hollow, lifeless eyes.
The bus screeched to a halt—and Rahul never traveled at night again.
