Bellridge Academy is an elite boarding school located in the mist-covered hills of Eldhollow, a small, almost-forgotten town tucked away on the edge of a quiet forest. The town itself is sleepy and old-fashioned, with cobblestone paths, crooked streetlamps, and whispering trees that seem to know more than they should. Most townsfolk keep to themselves—and no one ever questions the school's strange history.
The academy is known for its excellence, strict rules, and an unsettling rumor: one room on campus doesn't exist. Or rather, it used to exist—and then it didn't. Room 13A vanished from all maps, all student records, even teachers' memories. No one talks about it. Anyone who asks is told it never existed in the first place.
The architecture of the school is Gothic, full of archways, long corridors that echo too loudly, ancient wooden doors, and towers that haven't been accessed in decades. The oldest wing, The West Hall, is nearly always locked, but that's where Harper first woke up—in the very room everyone denies.
There are hidden passageways behind walls, dusty attics, and locked archives beneath the library. Magic doesn't exist here—at least not the sparkly kind—but something is deeply wrong with time and memory. Things vanish. People forget. And once you're erased… it's like you never lived at all.
Read ... Harper uncover the truth.....
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Harper sat up suddenly, her heart racing like she had just run a marathon. The room around her was silent—too silent. No chatter from the hallways, no footsteps, nothing. Just a quiet she could almost hear.
She looked around, blinking against the dim light sneaking in through the cracked blinds. This was not her old dorm room. It never could be. Because Room 13A was supposed to be imaginary. The school said it did not exist.
But here she was.
The walls were stained and cracked, the wallpaper curling at the corners like old leaves. A dusty mirror hung crooked on one wall, low enough for her to see her reflection. Harper stared at herself, but it was like looking at a stranger. Her own eyes felt unfamiliar.
She reached out and touched the mirror. Her fingertips brushed over a small folded note taped beneath it. Harper recognized the handwriting immediately—it was hers. The note said: Do not fall asleep.
A cold shiver ran down her spine. Where was she? How did she get here?
She stood and walked to the door, turning the knob. Locked. Of course.
"Room 13A," whispered a voice from somewhere in the shadows.
Harper froze. She spun around, heart pounding, but there was no one.
"Room 13A…" The whisper came again, softer this time, almost like a warning.
She pressed her ear against the door, listening. Only her breathing echoed back at her, mixed with the faint creaks of the old building.
She needed to get out. To find answers. To remember what had happened to her.
But her memories felt broken—like shattered glass that refused to fit back together.
The last thing she remembered was a girl with a red ribbon who promised her a secret, something hidden deep inside the school's walls.
Now that girl was gone.
Harper pressed her hand against the cold wood of the door and whispered, "Who are you? What is this place?"
No answer came.
Outside, life continued as if she had never existed.
But Harper knew better.
Room 13A was waiting.
And it never forgets.
Harper sat on the edge of the bed, her mind spinning. She kept turning the note over in her hands, trying to remember when she had written it. Why had she warned herself not to fall asleep? What was she so afraid of?
The room felt smaller now, like the walls were closing in. Every creak and whisper from the old building made her jump. She wanted to shout, to scream, to call for someone—anyone—but her voice stuck in her throat.
Her fingers traced the peeling wallpaper again, and suddenly she noticed faint scratches beneath the surface. Lines that looked like letters, scratched deep and hurried. She leaned closer, trying to make them out in the dim light.
"E... S... C... A... P... E," she whispered aloud.
Escape. That was the message. But from whom? And why?
She tried the door one more time. Still locked. Panic started to rise. She needed help. She needed answers.
Suddenly, her eyes were drawn to the mirror again. The reflection was slightly different this time. The room behind her looked like it stretched farther, darker, endless. And in the corner, a shadow moved.
Harper spun around, but the room was empty.
Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. Was she imagining things? Or was someone—or something—watching her?
She remembered the red ribbon girl. The one who disappeared. The one who had whispered secrets about Room 13A. Harper wished she was here now, to tell her what to do next.
Instead, all Harper had was a sinking feeling that she was trapped in a place that did not want her to leave.
And the deeper she looked, the more the room seemed alive—watching, waiting, hungry.
Harper swallowed hard. She could not stay here. But where could she go? The school denied Room 13A existed. No one would believe her.
She had to find another way out.
She took a deep breath, steadied herself, and decided to explore the room one more time. Maybe, just maybe, it would give her the answers she was desperate to find.
Because Harper Quinn was not ready to be forgotten.
Not yet...