👁️🗨️ The Room That Never Sleeps
Aung Moe was a quiet man who often couldn’t sleep.
He rented a small, old apartment in the city — cheap but peaceful.
When he moved in, the landlady warned him:
> “Don’t turn off the light at night.
The last tenant… didn’t wake up after doing that.”
He laughed it off. “Ghost stories,” he thought.
That first night, everything seemed fine.
But around 3 a.m., he woke to a whisper right beside his ear:
> “Are you cold…?”
Startled, he opened his eyes. The room was pitch black — the light had gone out on its own.
His hands trembled as he reached for the switch… but the bulb wouldn’t turn on.
Then, through the silence, he heard something from his earphones on the table —
a faint voice singing softly, again and again:
> “Are you cold… are you cold…”
The next morning, he brushed it off and replaced the bulb.
That night, he kept the light on — but around 3 a.m., the light dimmed and flickered out again.
And this time, he saw her.
A woman sat quietly in the corner, by the mirror.
Her head tilted down, her face pale.
He asked in a shaking voice, “Who are you?”
She slowly raised her head.
Her eyes were gone.
Her lips moved, whispering:
“Are you cold…?”
gust of icy wind swept through the room — and she vanished.
The next morning, the landlady told him,
“That room… the woman who lived there before you froze to death one winter night.
When they found her, she was clutching the broken light bulb… and whispering those same words.”
Since that day, Aung Moe never turned off the light again.
But sometimes — when the bulb burns out in the middle
of the night —
he still hears it.
“Are you cold…?”
Id: thetpaing