The room was dim, lit only by the corridor light slipping through the half-open door. Nila hugged her pillow, sitting cross-legged near the wall, while Jai Harini and Sastika's beds became the gathering ground for the night. The fan hummed, barely cutting through the giggles and gasps.
At first, the conversation was about teachers who seemed nice and who looked strict. Then it turned to rumors — the kind that every old hostel has. Someone mentioned the "locked storeroom near the laundry" and how it's always kept bolted.
Pavani, with a mischievous grin, asked, "Have you heard about the girl who once ran away after seeing someone standing behind her in the mirror?"
Amritha let out a dramatic gasp. "Stop it! I'm not going to the washroom alone now!"
Someone dimmed the lights even more. There were squeals. Sree Lekha was already pulling the blanket up to her eyes.
Nila wasn't scared, not really—not after what she'd lived through. But she joined the fun, pretending to be shocked. "Maybe we should test the mirror story tonight."
"Nooo!" came a chorus of voices.
The lights were dim, and the hush in the room was growing heavier by the minute. Pillows clutched. Blankets pulled closer. Everyone was halfway between nervous and curious, that delicious edge where a good story lives.
Jai Harini suddenly straightened up with a dramatic pause."You guys heard about the graveyard theory?" she asked, her voice low and mysterious.
"What graveyard?" Amritha asked, already gripping Sastika's arm.
"You do realise our hostel is huge, right? Like, really old-school, big campus, so many random locked rooms. I heard—" Jai Harini looked around, dropping her voice even more— "there used to be a small graveyard here. Right where the girl's hostel stands now."
A gasp escaped from Pavani. "Stop lying! Who told you that?"
"An old senior. She was in Class 12 when I joined. She said it so casually one evening like it was common knowledge. Apparently, the land was donated to the school, and they cleared the graves without doing proper last rites."
"That's not even legal!" Sree Lekha said, eyes wide. But she didn't sound confident, more like she was trying to convince herself.
"Exactly," Jai Harini said, raising an eyebrow. "But you know what's weirder? The corridor lights near the laundry switch off randomly even when the main line is on. And some girls from the 10th said they've heard crying from the old storeroom."
A thick silence followed.
"Maybe it's just plumbing," Nila tried to say, half smiling, though her voice came out softer than intended.
But now even she felt a bit of chill. Not from fear, but from how easy it was to believe strange things when the room was dark, when the voices were hushed, and when you weren't sure what was real and what was imagination fed by whispers.
"I'm not going alone anywhere after 9 p.m.," Sastika declared, wrapping her arms around her knees.
"Too late," Amritha teased. "Now the ghosts know our names."
Everyone screamed and laughed at once, throwing pillows at her.
The room had turned into a mess of nervous laughter, but the theory had been planted.
Just as the last giggle died down, Pavani leaned in closer to the group, eyes glinting with a mix of excitement and dread."If you think that's scary," she said, "I've got one that's real. Actually happened. Not even that long ago."
Everyone turned toward her, quiet again.
"You all know the senior who passed out last year? Aishwarya akka from Blue House?" she asked.
Nila vaguely remembered the rumours about a tall girl who always wore a serious expression and walked fast like she had no time for nonsense. "Yeah…?"
"She tried the Bloody Mary challenge. In the restroom mirror."
Half the girls instinctively turned their heads toward the attached washroom, though the door was closed.
"Nooo," Amritha whispered, dramatically. "Tell me she didn't!"
"She did," Pavani said, nodding gravely. "It was the middle of the night. Just for fun, with her friends. They said she stood in front of the mirror, switched off all the lights, and started chanting. But the moment the third chant ended, she screamed and ran out. She didn't finish the ritual properly."
"What do you mean finish properly?" Sastika asked nervously.
"You're supposed to say the name thrice and then stare without blinking. But she blinked. Got scared. Switched on the light and ran," Pavani said.
"And then?" Nila asked.
"She got cursed," Pavani replied flatly. "After that night, things kept happening to her. She tripped down the second-floor stairs in the girls' hostel. Broke her elbow. That too—" she paused for effect— "right before the board exams."
"Wasn't that just bad luck?" Prerna asked, trying to sound rational but sounding unsure herself.
"No," Pavani said. "It wasn't just once. She kept getting injured in weird ways. Her leg got caught in the swing chain. She got bitten by a dog from the nearby quarters. She even had a fever during all her pre-boards. One time, she fainted randomly in the corridor after evening study."
"Okay now that's really creepy," Sree Lekha whispered.
"I heard her parents even took her to a temple to get her 'cleansed,'" Pavani added.
"Stoppp, now I won't even go to the washroom alone," Amritha groaned, clutching her water bottle like a talisman.
"Then don't try Bloody Mary," Pavani said smugly. "Or maybe... too late."
The lights flickered for a second, purely coincidental — but enough to make the room erupt in shrieks and flying pillows.
After the lights flickered and the girls calmed down from the chaos of Pavani's story, Prerna decided it was time to bring the fear levels down, just a notch.
"Okay, okay," she said, raising her voice a little. "Before we all end up having nightmares and beg Akka to let us sleep in her room, let me take you to a different kind of haunted place—India's most famous one: Bhangarh Fort."
Some girls perked up, clearly familiar with the name. Others, like Nila, leaned in, intrigued.
"It's in Rajasthan," Prerna began, slipping into storyteller mode."Built in 1573 CE by Maharaja Madho Singh I, he was the younger brother of Man Singh, Akbar's general. It was meant to be a full-fledged fort town. It had temples, markets, havelis, palaces… everything."
"Oh, like a whole mini city?" Jai Harini asked.
"Exactly," Prerna said. "Right at the base of the Aravalli hills. But then... everything just died out. People left. Like, completely. The place became abandoned."
"Why?" Sree Lekha asked.
"No one really knows," Prerna replied. "Some say it was because of famine or political reasons. But what made it famous are the ghost stories."
"Tell the ghost part," Pavani urged, hugging her pillow.
Prerna grinned. "Legend says Princess Ratnavati, who was incredibly beautiful, caught the attention of a black magic sorcerer named Singhia. He made a love potion disguised as perfumed oil and tried to trick her. But she realized it and threw it at a rock, which rolled over and crushed him."
Gasps and nervous giggles broke out.
"Before dying, Singhia cursed the entire kingdom," Prerna continued, dropping her voice for dramatic effect. 'No one will live here again. No soul will ever be reborn on this land.'
"And the curse came true?" Nila asked softly.
"Apparently, yes. Soon after, there was a war with Ajabgarh. Princess Ratnavati died, the city collapsed, and no one ever lived there again. Even today, no one dares to build anything inside the fort. Not even huts."
"That's so creepy," Amritha whispered.
"And you know the Archaeological Survey of India has even put a board near the gate?" Prerna added. "It says no one is allowed inside after sunset. They believe people who stay overnight vanish or go mad."
For a moment, silence settled in the room. Then, Jai Harini spoke up, "Wait, wasn't there something about Rani Lakshmibai and this fort too?"
Prerna laughed lightly. "That's one of the biggest misconceptions! Rani Lakshmibai had nothing to do with Bhangarh. She lived much later, during the 1857 rebellion. Her life was centered around Jhansi and Gwalior—not Rajasthan."
"Then why do people say that?" asked Sastika.
"Because of films and serials," Prerna explained. "Some scenes about queens or fantasy battles were shot there. So people assume Lakshmibai must've stayed or fought there. But Bhangarh was abandoned way before she was even born."
Nila nodded. "It's funny how myths get mixed up with history. But also… kinda magical."
"Exactly," Prerna said. "Bhangarh is about curses and ghosts. Rani Lakshmibai is about bravery and sacrifice. Two different legends. One spooky, one heroic."
There was a brief pause before Pavani said, "Still… I wouldn't want to visit either."
Everyone laughed.
The laughter slowly died down into gentle giggles and yawns. It was past lights-out time, but no one really wanted to leave just yet. The thrill of stories and the comfort of being together made them feel safer, warmer—even if the night had started with ghost stories.
Nila stretched her legs and glanced around at all the faces—so animated, full of life and light in the dim glow of the night lamp. Something about this moment felt… permanent. Like one of those memories she'd hold on to, years later.
Somewhere between curses and courage, ghost stories and girlhood, the hostel had quietly become a home.