It had only started happening lately, and nobody was sure why. If you walked past the old swim club, with the dingy old walls and half-shattered windows, you'd always get that sense of eeriness. There had always been rumors that it was haunted, with fake stories to the title, made up by random teenagers in their spare time. Slamming doors, creaking floors, footsteps and voices echoing through the halls were a constant.
But it was only now that there was true proof that there was something there. Footsteps bounced off of the walls, walking to seemingly random places, and disappearing before you could catch a glimpse. Shadows would seem to cross the corner of your vision, but when you looked over, it was gone without a trace. And now, there was another addition.
Crying. The sniffles and choked off sobs ringing through the halls clear as day. It was always the same voice that cried out, that damned the world in a soft breath. It was always a boy, teenager at the least. The sounds always came from the lounge, but no one dared to investigate. They always turned their heads, and walked away. No one dared look, fearing that they would come face to face with their nightmares. When, in fact, the reason for the sobs was because the young boy had come face to face with his.
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