Night Time Story: The Room That Wasn’t There Yesterday

Harper had lived in the same house her whole life. She knew every inch of it—every creaky floorboard, every hidden corner.

So when she woke up one morning and found a new door at the end of the hallway, she froze.

It hadn’t been there yesterday.

Her parents were already downstairs, eating breakfast like nothing was wrong. She rubbed her eyes, convinced she was imagining it. But when she looked again, the door was still there.

The paint matched the rest of the house. The doorknob was the same as the others. But something about it felt… wrong.

Harper pressed her ear against the wood.

Silence.

Her fingers curled around the knob. Slowly, she turned it.

The door swung open, revealing a room she had never seen before.

Inside was a bed, neatly made. A desk with books stacked in perfect rows. A window that showed a view of a garden that didn’t exist.

And on the desk, a single framed photograph.

Harper stepped closer. Her breath caught.

It was a picture of her family.

But sitting beside them… was her.

And yet, Harper had never taken this photo. She had never worn that dress, never stood in that place. But there she was, smiling as if she belonged.

A whisper of cold air brushed against her neck.

Then she heard it.

A soft creak behind her.

Harper turned just in time to see the door slam shut.

And when she tried to open it again…

It was gone.

The hallway stretched on as if the door had never been there.

But in the missing room, the framed photograph still sat on the desk.

And now, the girl in the picture was staring right at the camera.

No longer smiling.

By Cedric Hawthorne