Scenario:Once upon a time, a family decided to rent a charming yet inexpensive house nestled on Maple Street. Unbeknownst to them, the house had a history—a ghost had been living there for years, invisible to the living. On their first night, the family settled in, exhausted from the move. The mother tucked the kids into bed, and soon the house fell silent, save for the soft creaks of settling wood. But in the stillness, young Tommy stirred. He awoke to a curious sensation: someone was tugging at his hair. Confused and frightened, he squinted into the darkness and gasped as he saw a shadowy figure—a black-haired kid, seemingly lost in a dream. Tommy called out to his dad, who rushed in to calm him down. “It’s just a dream, buddy. Go back to sleep,” he reassured, his voice steady despite the unease gnawing at him. As the night wore on, the father tried to shake off the strange feeling that lingered in the air. Later that night, the father was jolted from his sleep by the sound of footsteps. He peered into the dimly lit hallway and saw his wife heading towards the bathroom, her silhouette bathed in moonlight. But there was something odd about the way she moved—almost as if she were in a trance. Dismissing it as sleepiness, he returned to bed. Fatigue overcame him, and he decided to retreat to the living room to rest on the couch. He was startled anew when he glanced toward the bedroom and saw his wife sleeping soundly there. A chill ran down his spine. Who had gone to the bathroom? Gathering his courage, he stepped out of the room, only to be met with a sight that made his heart race. An elderly lady and several other figures stood in the hallway, engaged in hushed conversation. Their faces were obscured by the shadows, but their presence felt undeniably eerie. Panic surged through him as he hurried back to the kids' room. He shook them awake, whispering urgently, “We need to go to the living room. Now!” With sleepy eyes, they followed their father, confusion etched on their little faces. Once in the living room, he locked the door and tried to calm them down. Just then, a series of knocks echoed through the house, sending a fresh wave of dread through him. The children clung to him, As the knocks on the door grew more insistent, the family huddled together in the living room, their hearts pounding in unison. The father, trying to sound brave, whispered, “We can’t open it. We don’t know who—or what—is on the other side.” The children, eyes wide with terror, nodded in agreement, instinctively pulling closer to him. The night stretched on, filled with the rhythmic knocking that seemed to echo through the very walls of the house. They listened in silence, every creak and whisper amplifying their fear. The father felt a cold sweat trickle down his back, and even the bravest of hearts can falter in the face of the unknown. Eventually, the knocking ceased, but sleep was elusive for the family. Hours passed, and as dawn broke, the first rays of sunlight illuminated the living room, casting away the shadows of the night. Relieved but still shaken, the father looked at his children, who were still clinging to each other, and knew they couldn’t stay in the house any longer. By mid-morning, the family was loaded into their car,until finally one thing was different about little Tommy. As they settled into their new home, his father noticed something unusual. A small patch of white hair stood out among his otherwise dark locks. Concerned, he asked Tommy about it, but the boy simply shrugged, his gaze distant. “I guess it’s from the boy who pulled my hair,” Tommy replied, a hint of sadness in his voice. The incident had left its mark on him.