It was late on a chilly February night, nearly ten years after the tragic accident. The Incident that claimed seven lives on the bridge to the Corona-Calvin ferry. Akshay, a young local, had just finished a late shift at his new work. “He had to take the bridge to come home, as the ferry was closed.” It was risky, but he figured he had no other option.
The fog had rolled in thick, shrouding the bridge in a heavy, eerie silence. Akshay kept his hands in his pockets, picking up his pace when he suddenly heard faint voices behind him. The whispers and distant laughter, like students talking softly among themselves. He shook his head, thinking it was just his mind playing tricks on him. But as he looked back, he thought he saw shadows, faint but unmistakably in the shape of people, lingering on the bridge.
The air felt colder, heavy, and charged. He tried to brush it off and walked faster. That’s when he heard the sound of footsteps splashing on the wet pavement right behind him, though there was no one else around. The whispering grew louder, more insistent, and he felt as if someone was breathing down his neck.
“Panicked, Akshay sprinted, yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was following him. He glanced back, and for just a moment, he could swear he saw four ghostly figures in school uniforms staring back at him. Their faces were blank, their eyes hollow, and they seemed to be reaching out, beckoning him to join them.
The voices were almost deafening now, and the last thing he heard before he escaped the bridge was a faint, chilling whisper: “Why did you leave us?”
Akshay barely made it home that night, too scared to look back. He never spoke of it to anyone, but he avoids that bridge to this day. Locals say the bridge is still haunted by the spirits of those lost that fateful night. And that anyone who dares to cross it might just feel a chill, hear a whisper, or catch a glimpse of the lingering shadows of students who never made it home.
