It was the trip everyone had been looking forward to for weeks.
Yvette stood near the edge of the church compound, clutching the strap of her backpack. She was the new girl, again. Her dad had moved them here three months ago, and while he’d meant well by signing her up for the church’s annual youth camp, she wasn’t sure if she was ready for this much togetherness with strangers.
“Make some friends,” he had said. “Put yourself out there.”
Easy for him to say. So far, Elena and Rita were the only two who had made that effort. They were her classmates, friendly faces in a sea of unfamiliar ones. In the past few months, the three of them had gotten close, always sitting together at lunch, walking home after school, whispering inside jokes during boring classes.
But today, as the teens gathered around, buzzing with excitement, Yvette hadn’t seen them. She stuck close to her dad while the other kids moved in clusters — laughing, chatting, already making plans for who’d sit with whom on the bus.
Then, finally, the red coach pulled into the compound. Glossy and bright like a cherry lollipop. The group surged forward even before it came to a full stop, backpacks bouncing against their backs. Yvette’s stomach turned. Still no sign of Elena or Rita.
She scanned the crowd again, her chest tightening. What if they ditched her last minute? What if this whole thing was a joke and she was the punchline?
“I’m not going without Elena and Rita,” she muttered, turning to her dad.
He looked down at her, calm and patient as always. “I’m sure they’ll show up.”
Just as the bus doors hissed open and the students started boarding in a chaotic shuffle, Yvette’s phone buzzed. A message popped up from Rita: We’re here. Wait up!
She whipped around and there they were. Elena in her oversized denim jacket, Rita with her hair in a high messy bun, both slightly out of breath like they’d been running.
“We overslept,” Rita said, grinning as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
“You scared the hell out of me,” Yvette groaned in relief. “I thought I was going to have to share a room with strangers and pretend I enjoy kumbaya.”
Elena gave her a quick hug, but there was something distracted about her. Her eyes scanned the crowd, then drifted toward the church building as if she was trying to remember something.
“You okay?” Yvette asked.
“Huh? Yeah. Just didn’t sleep well,” Elena mumbled. “Weird dreams.”
Yvette wanted to ask more, but a youth leader was already ushering them onto the bus. They climbed in together, elbowing for window seats, laughing like everything was fine.
At the time, it did feel fine.
But looking back… Yvette would remember how Elena kept glancing at her phone, how Rita seemed unusually quiet during the ride, and how both of them jumped when the driver honked the horn too loud near a traffic jam.
She didn’t think much of it then. She would later.
At the Resort
Five teens, including Yvette, Elena and Rita were assigned to a two-bedroom apartment on the fifth floor, part of a small resort that looked decent enough online but somehow felt older in person. Faded wallpaper, dim lighting, furniture that creaked when you looked at it too long.
Yvette, Elena, and Rita took the bigger bedroom with the queen-sized beds. The two other girls, older, and already in their own little world, took the smaller room.
They were still unpacking when Yvette turned on the air conditioner. A low humming sound filled the room, like an engine idling too close to the walls.
“Ugh, what is that?” she muttered, frowning up at the unit. The hum wasn’t loud, but it had that mosquito-tone pitch that somehow made it worse.
Elena, who had just flopped onto the bed, suddenly went stiff.
Then she screamed. Yvette jumped.
Without a word, Rita dove into the bed beside Elena and yanked the blanket over both of them like they were hiding from a monster under the bed.
“What the hell?” Yvette blinked at them, still standing by the air-cond remote. “Why did you scream?”
Elena peeked out from under the blanket. “Didn’t you hear the humming sound?”
Yvette gave her a weird look. “Yeah? It’s just the air cond.”
But the way Elena stared at the unit… it was like she saw something Yvette didn’t.
They let it go, mostly. Yvette figured they were just being dramatic, maybe spooked by the unfamiliar place, maybe tired. Maybe both.
That night, sometime after midnight, Elena sat up in bed.
“I’m thirsty,” she whispered. “I need to get some water.”
The bottles of water they had brought were already gone, and the tap water smelled weird.
“I’ll come with you,” Yvette offered, already pulling on a hoodie. She didn’t like the idea of Elena wandering the resort alone, especially after that weird air-cond incident. And the silence of the place at night? It was too thick.
They took the elevator down to the 24-hour café near the lobby. Bought two big bottles of mineral water, and a packet of mints. No one else was around except the sleepy guy behind the counter who didn’t even look up from his phone.
On the way back, the elevator doors closed… and then opened again.
They waited, expecting someone to step in. But no one was there.
The doors closed once more. Then opened again.
Elena’s hand tightened around her water bottle. She looked at Yvette. “Did you press something?”
Yvette shook her head. Then, seeing the fear building in Elena’s eyes, she forced a laugh. “Oh, maybe I hit the ‘open’ button by accident. My bad.” She jabbed the ‘close’ button again.
This time, the elevator finally started moving. Neither of them said anything the whole ride up.
Back in the apartment, the air felt heavier. Not hot, just… thick. Like the walls were holding their breath.
Yvette twisted open the water bottle and took a sip. Elena sat cross-legged on her bed, hugging a pillow. Rita was already half-asleep under the covers, earbuds in, one leg sticking out like she was used to doing this at home.
“Thanks for coming with me,” Elena said softly.
“No big deal,” Yvette replied, but then added, “That elevator thing was weird though, right?”
Elena nodded, eyes on the ceiling. “I hate elevators. Always have. You know they’re the only place where mirrors are allowed to face each other?”
Yvette raised an eyebrow. “That’s a thing?”
“Yeah. Something about portals. Endless reflections. Bad luck.”
“You’re full of fun facts for bedtime,” Yvette joked, forcing a laugh.
Elena didn’t smile. A low, familiar hum kicked in.
The air cond.
Yvette froze, halfway through twisting the cap back on her water bottle. The sound wasn’t like before. This time, it was slower, lower, almost vibrating through the bed.
Elena flinched.
Rita stirred. “Can you guys not talk about creepy stuff when I’m trying to sleep?”
“No one’s talking,” Yvette said.
That’s when they heard the knock.
Three soft taps. Not the door, the window. They all looked toward it at once. The window was shut, curtains drawn. They were on the fifth floor.
Elena’s voice was barely a whisper. “Tell me you heard that.”
Yvette swallowed. “It’s probably just… tree branches. Or wind.”
“In a resort courtyard?” Elena snapped.
They sat in silence for a beat too long. Then Rita groaned, flipped over, and muttered, “Can y’all stop being dramatic?”
Yvette forced herself to get up, cross the room, and pull back the curtain.
Nothing.
But for a second, just a blink, she could’ve sworn she saw a faint smudge on the outside of the glass. Like a handprint. She closed the curtain and climbed back into bed without saying anything.
The Waterfall
The morning sun cut through the mist like a blade, streaking gold across the trees as the youth group made their way down the rocky path. They were heading to a nearby waterfall, the main highlight of the camp itinerary. Nature, fresh air, photo ops, and a so-called “waterfall massage” if you sat right under the fall.
Yvette wasn’t particularly excited. Elena, walking beside her, was quiet again. Her eyes tired, like she hadn’t slept. Rita, meanwhile, had bounced back to her usual sarcastic self.
“You guys need to lighten up,” Rita said. “We didn’t come here to ghost-hunt.”
Yvette tried to laugh, but her mind kept circling the night before. The air-cond hum. The knocks. That smudge on the window. It was all probably explainable.
Probably.
The waterfall came into view; tall, roaring, beautiful. The rocks below were slick with algae, and there was a wide natural pool where the water collected. Some parts were shallow, others deeper, but none of it looked dangerous. A couple of adult supervisors were already standing in the pool, giving safety instructions to the youth.
The kids swarmed in. Shoes came off, towels hit the rocks. Some ran in straight away. Others hung back, dipping toes first.
Yvette stuck to the side with Elena and Rita. Elena still hadn’t said much.
“Are you okay?” Yvette asked.
Elena nodded vaguely. “Just… don’t feel like swimming. You go.”
But before Yvette could respond, a sudden shout split the air.
One of the adults had fallen. No, not fallen….been pulled. The other reached to grab him, but in a blink, she was gone too.
The water wasn’t that deep, maybe two meters at most, but the current had shifted. Powerful. Violent. Foam churned where the falls hit the surface, masking visibility.
Panic broke out instantly. Screams. Splashes. Someone blew a whistle. A few of the leaders yelled for the kids to get out of the water. Yvette watched in frozen horror as teenagers scrambled up the banks, some crying, some barefoot and bleeding from sharp stones.
Nearby, a group of boys stood frozen in place. Three of them. One was shaking. Another had his fists clenched.
Then one of them, a lanky kid with spiked hair and no shirt, jumped in.
“Wait!” someone shouted.
A second boy followed. And then… nothing.
They didn’t come back up. Not in one minute. Not in five.
When help finally arrived, dragging ropes and shouting into walkie-talkies, the last boy was still there, standing on the edge.
“Don’t!” a leader yelled. “We’ve already called…”
But he jumped anyway.
Yvette couldn’t look. She didn’t want to see the water anymore. She didn’t want to hear the screams, or see Elena silently rocking back and forth, staring at the spot where the boys had gone under.
Something wasn’t right.
Later that day…
Back at the resort, the kids were confined to their rooms. Camp activities were suspended. The mood was stone-dead.
Yvette sat on the bed, hugging her knees. Rita was in the shower, and Elena hadn’t spoken since the waterfall.
She finally did, hours later, in a voice that barely carried: “They weren’t supposed to go near the water.”
Yvette looked up. “What?”
Elena’s eyes were unfocused. “It was the same dream. The one I had before camp. I didn’t tell anyone because… I thought it was just a dream.”
“What happened in it?”
Elena didn’t answer.
Just then, the air-cond clicked on again. That low, rumbling hum. But this time, Yvette swore it was vibrating through the walls. Like a warning.
The Day the Bodies Were Found
The bodies surfaced one by one.
One boy was found the next morning, snagged under submerged rocks downstream. The second boy was discovered tangled in a mass of roots just beyond the bend. The two adults were recovered with the help of divers before sunset.
But the last boy, the one who jumped in alone, the one no one had expected to, remained missing.
For four days, the camp was effectively shut down. No more hikes, no more games, no more forced group bonding. Just questions no one had answers to, and whispered updates passed between hallways like urban legends. The kids weren’t allowed near the waterfall again. Some parents came to pull their children out early.
Yvette stayed. Elena stayed too but it was like she wasn’t there anymore.
She barely spoke. Barely ate. One night, Yvette woke up to find Elena sitting at the edge of the bed, just staring out the window. The curtains were drawn. There was nothing to look at.
“Elena…?”
No response.
Rita, for once, didn’t make a joke about it.
It wasn’t until the final boy’s body was found, bloated and unrecognizable, four days after the incident that the final blow landed. The camp ended that same day.
At the Funeral(s)
Three days later, the girls found themselves standing in a row, dressed in black, in the back of a crowded church hall. The funeral service was for Michael and Melvin — the first two boys who had jumped in. Elena had grown up with them. They were like older brothers, like constants in a world that never stopped changing.
Elena hadn’t cried when she saw the coffins. She cried during the slideshow.
It was the photo of the three of them on a camping trip, with Michael making that stupid peace sign and Melvin pretending to pick his nose. Elena collapsed into Yvette’s shoulder like something inside her had snapped loose.
The last boy’s funeral was different. Closed casket.
His name was Kevin. He wasn’t supposed to be at the waterfall that day. He had been filling in for someone else who got sick.
Yvette could feel the energy shift when they entered the room. It wasn’t sadness. It was shame. Regret. Some kind of guilt hanging over the pews like a fog no one wanted to breathe.
Elena didn’t say a word the whole time.
Afterward, they sat in silence outside the church, the scent of lilies clinging to their clothes.
“Michael texted me that morning,” Elena said suddenly. Her voice was raw. “Said he had a weird dream. That something bad was going to happen. I told him to shut up and stop being dramatic.”
Yvette reached for her hand. “You didn’t know.”
“I did,” she whispered. “That’s the worst part. I think I did.”
After the Incident
Weeks passed.
The town moved on, like it always does. Kids went back to school. Parents went back to work. The church said prayers, held vigils, and quietly scrubbed the youth camp trip from next year’s calendar.
Yvette still couldn’t sleep without checking her windows.
Some nights, the hum came back. Not in the new place she lived, not physically, but in her ears, just as she was about to drift off. A low vibration, like a warning. Or a memory refusing to fade.
She didn’t see Elena much after the funerals. The last message she received from her was a voice note.
“I keep thinking maybe it was meant to happen. Not like fate or whatever, I just mean, some stories don’t have endings. Some people leave and don’t come back, and no one ever tells you why. But you still feel them around. You know?”
Yvette never replied. She saved the message anyway.
Sometimes, she played it back, late at night, just to remember that it was real. That it all was.
She still had the photo they took on the first day of the trip in their room. The one where Elena was smiling, and Rita was mid-eye roll, and Yvette had her hand half-raised like she wasn’t sure she wanted to be in the shot.
There were only three of them in the frame.
But when she looked at it now, really looked, there was a shape behind them in the glass window. Blurred. Pale. Barely there.
It could’ve been a reflection. It could’ve been a smudge. Or maybe it was just someone else trying to be remembered.
