She Babysat For A Family Who Said They Didn’t Have A Girl, But She Heard Whispering And Someone Dragging Their Feet On The Other Side Of A Locked Door
Babysitting is usually pretty chill; raid the snacks, put the kid to bed, and do some doomscrolling until the parents come home.
But sometimes, you get one of those jobs that comes with a very weird house rule and a whole new reason to never ignore a locked door.
One of our readers anonymously sent in a story that starts like a normal night, and ends with a whisper you’ll never forget.
Got a ghost story of your own? Send it to me! Just…don’t blame me if your lights start flickering.
I used to babysit to make extra money in college. Usually for neighbors or the professor-types who wanted a night out without guilt. But this one gig…this one still haunts me to this day.
The house was tucked away in one of those quiet neighborhoods that feels too quiet. Like everyone agreed to stay inside and mind their business, no matter what they heard.
The mom, Leslie, was one of those perfect, shiny women who probably wore lip gloss to bed. She gave me a rushed tour: snacks in the fridge, bedtime at eight, don’t let them eat sugar, and oh right, “Don’t go in the room at the end of the hall. It’s locked anyway.”
She said it like it was no big deal. But when someone points out a locked room in a house, you notice it. Especially when they say it like that.
The kid, Mason, was maybe five. Sweet, quiet, the kind of kid who clung to routine. We read “Goodnight Moon” after brushing his teeth, and he fell asleep mid-sentence.
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And then… the quiet. I was on the couch, halfway through a bad dating app scroll, when I heard it.
A thud. From upstairs.
I froze. Waited. Another thud. Like something fell, or someone was walking, but dragging their feet. My heart was hammering, but I told myself it was probably just the house settling. Old pipes. You know the drill. Except this house wasn’t old.
I crept upstairs with my phone light on. The hallway was narrow, with one light flickering like it wanted to be in a horror movie.
The sound had come from, yep. The locked door. I tried the knob. Still locked. Good. I turned to go back downstairs… and then I heard it. A whisper. “Mason.”
I whipped around. It was faint. Female. Like someone calling for him through the door. I booked it back downstairs.
Thirty minutes later, the parents came home. I pretended everything was normal. But just as I was leaving, Leslie said, “Thanks again. You were great. Just…one thing.”
She smiled too big.
“If Mason tells you anything about his sister, ignore it. He doesn’t have one.”
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