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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Perseus_4444 on 2024-09-26 03:14:52+00:00.

This happened when I was 12, and I still think about it more than I want to admit. It’s one of those things where you try to convince yourself it wasn’t real, but deep down, you know it was.

I grew up in a small village where everyone knew each other. You’d think that would make everything feel safe, but there was always one place that stood out—this rundown hut at the very edge of the village. It looked like it hadn’t been touched in years. The roof sagged, and the walls looked like they could collapse at any second. But what made it worse was the old woman who lived there. No one knew her name, and no one really talked about her. She was just… always there, sitting by her window, staring out with those empty eyes.

The older folks in the village had stories about her. Some said she was a witch, others claimed she was a spirit trapped in that decaying house. As a kid, I didn’t know what to believe. All I knew was that I hated walking by her place. The way she’d watch you as you passed—it felt wrong, like she could see something about you that no one else could.

One night, my friends dared me to go to her house. It was a stupid, childish dare—just tap on her window once, they said, and run. I was scared, but I didn’t want to look like a coward, so I agreed. I wish I hadn’t.

It was late, maybe around midnight. The village was quiet, and the moon was full, casting long shadows on the dirt path. As I got closer to her house, I could see her sitting there, like always, staring out into the night. My heart was racing, but I told myself it was just a dare—tap and run. That’s all.

When I reached her window, I hesitated. I could feel her eyes on me, even though I was too scared to look directly at her. I raised my hand, shaking, and tapped the glass.

Just once.

At first, nothing happened. I started to turn, thinking it was over, but then I heard it.

*Tap. Tap.*

I froze. Someone had tapped back from inside the house. Slowly, I turned to look at the window. The old woman was gone. The chair by the window was empty. My whole body went cold. Then, I saw her—standing just inside the doorway, grinning at me. Her face… it didn’t look right. Her eyes were too wide, her mouth stretched too far. And then I saw her hand, still pressed against the inside of the window, slowly tapping.

I ran. I didn’t look back, I just ran as fast as I could until I got home. I locked the door behind me and spent the whole night wide awake, too scared to sleep. The image of her grin burned into my mind.

The next morning, people were talking. Her house had collapsed overnight. The village officials went to clear the debris, but they couldn’t find her body. She had just… vanished.

I tried to move on. I told myself it was over, but sometimes, when I pass by the spot where her house used to stand, I swear I still feel it—that cold, watching presence. And at night, if I’m up late, I hear it.

*Tap. Tap.*

It’s been years, but I can’t shake the feeling that she’s still out there. Watching. Waiting.