W5: "The secret door in my school leads to..."

 The Secret Door in My School Leads to...

It started as an ordinary afternoon. The school hallways were empty, echoing with the distant chatter of students in their last-period classes. I had stayed behind after lunch to retrieve a book from my locker when I noticed something strange— a faint outline of a door on the farthest wall of the hallway, where no door had ever been before. My heart pounded as I stepped closer. The paint on the door was faded, peeling as though it had been there for decades, yet I was certain I had never seen it before.

With hesitant fingers, I pushed. The door creaked open, revealing darkness beyond. A chill rushed out, and an odd, musty scent filled my nostrils—something ancient, something decayed. Despite the unease creeping up my spine, curiosity urged me forward. I stepped inside.

The door slammed shut behind me.

I whirled around, reaching for the handle, but it was gone. Instead, I was surrounded by crumbling walls and broken desks. My school—but not as I knew it. The hallway stretched into darkness, its windows cracked and covered in thick dust. Lockers stood rusted and bent, as if abandoned for centuries. The air hung heavy with silence, except for a distant sound—whispering.

“Hello?” My voice barely broke the eerie hush.

The whispers stopped. Then, soft, shuffling footsteps echoed from the far end of the corridor.

I turned slowly, my breath caught in my throat. A shadow stood at the end of the hallway—tall, unnaturally thin, and still. Its head tilted slightly, as if observing me.

Then it moved.

Not walking, not running, but gliding, its form flickering in and out of existence like a distorted film reel. Panic shot through me. I ran, darting through a classroom door, slamming it behind me. The room was worse—desks overturned, books lying open with pages torn, and the blackboard filled with frantic scrawls 

“GET OUT! IT SEES YOU!”

Something scratched at the door. Long, slow, deliberate.

I stumbled backward, my mind racing for an escape. The windows were sealed shut with wooden planks, nailed tightly. The vents above looked too small. My only option was the door.

The scratching stopped.

Silence.

I pressed my ear against the wood, my pulse a deafening drum in my ears.

A whisper. Right on the other side. "You don't belong here."

I screamed, backing away as the door burst open, the force sending splinters flying. The figure stood in the doorway, taller than before, its limbs unnaturally elongated. Its face—or lack of one—was a swirling void, shifting like smoke. Hands reached out, fingers impossibly long, curling toward me.

I ran.

Out of the classroom, down the ruined hallway, my lungs burning. The school twisted around me, halls looping in impossible directions, doors leading to places that made no sense—a gym filled with old, rotting mannequins, a library where the books murmured in voices of the lost. My own school had become a nightmare.

And then, I saw it—the door. The same one I had entered through. Hope surged in my chest as I sprinted toward it. The air behind me grew heavy, thick with an unnatural presence, pressing against my back like unseen hands reaching to pull me in.

I grabbed the handle and yanked.

Nothing.

The whispers returned, now a chorus of agonized voices. "Stay with us..." The figure loomed closer, the darkness radiating from it swallowing the very light around me. I did the only thing I could—I kicked the door with every ounce of strength I had left.

It cracked open just enough.

I squeezed through, tumbling onto the familiar, clean school floor. The door slammed shut behind me with a deafening bang.

I gasped for air, my body shaking uncontrollably. The hallway was normal again. Students walked past, unaware of the horror I had just witnessed. The door—the cursed door—was gone. Not even a mark remained on the wall.

I never spoke of it. Never told a soul.

But every so often, when the school is empty and the halls are quiet, I swear I hear it.

The whispering.

And I know the door is still there, waiting.

W4: "An Alien Has Landed in My Backyard"

 It was a quiet night, when I heard a strange noise outside. 

With full of curiosity, I went to check it out what was the big sound about. 

Guess what?! I found a small, shiny spaceship in my backyard. 

My heart raced as I approached it. 

Every steps that I stepped forward, I was thinking about UFO, Star War, Aliens. All the creatures appeared on television now were coming in front of me!!!!

Will there any creature going to pop out and eat out my brains? As I was thinking all this weird stuff, I had already stop in front of the spaceship.

Suddenly, a tiny creature stepped out. It was about three feet tall, with a round head and big, four bright green eyes. 

Figure 1.1 Alien in my backyard

Its skin was a soft purple, dotted with glowing spots. The alien looked scared and lost.

“Hey there,” I said softly, kneeling down. “It’s okay. I won’t hurt you.” 

The alien turned its head after hearing my sound and reached out a hand, it seems like it didn't scared of me. Its finger was smaller and shorter than me and just have four fingers on it. Although my heart still fulfilled of surprised and spooky, I still try to reach out to it.

When we touched, I felt a warm spark of understanding between us. That's weird but amazing at the same time. I realized that despite the language barrier, we could communicate through gestures and emotions.
I named the alien “Nina.” As we couldn’t speak the same language, but we still could communicate through gestures and feelings. 

Nina pointed to the spacecraft, then to the sky, its eyes filled with some tears. I understood that it wanted to return home but was lost and afraid. 

I felt sympathy, and I was just a teenager, but I couldn’t abandon this creature to the unknown. 

But soon, I heard a loud noise. A car pulled up, and men in dark suits got out. 

They were strangers to me, but my first sense told me that these guys would be a threat to Nina. My heart raced and the first thought in my mind was I couldn’t let them take my new friend.

“Quick! We have to hide!” I whispered, and we crouched behind some bushes. 

The men searched the area but eventually left, frustrated. I knew I had to help Nina get back home before they returned. I couldn't even think about what they would do to Nina if it got caught. 

————

That night, I took Nina back to the spot in the woods where the spaceship was hidden. 

“This is it,” I said, feeling sad. “You have to go home.”

Nina nodded, its eyes shining with gratitude. We shared a final moment, and I promised to remember our friendship even though it was just a short memory, but still...cherish memory.

Nina climbed into the spaceship, and I watched as it powered up.
Just then, the car returned. “They’re back!” I shouted. 

“You have to go now!” Nina looked at me one last time, then pressed a button. The ship shot into the sky, leaving a trail of light.

They arrived just as Nina disappeared. “What are you doing here?” one of them asked. I took a deep breath and said, “I was just stargazing.”
They seemed suspicious but eventually left. I felt relieved. Nina was safe, and I had done the right thing.
In the days that followed, I something still think of Nina and the outer space. I felt inspired and connected to the universe. Every night, I looked up at the stars, knowing that Nina was out there, exploring the cosmos. 

I would always cherish the time we spent together and the lessons I learned from my alien friend.

W3:"A world without technology : A blessing or a curse?"

I woke to silence.

Not the usual way, like with the hum of the fridge, the twinkling streetlights outside, muffled of late-night television from her neighbor’s apartment. The world was utterly, impossibly still.

Everyday wake up with the first thing, I reached to my phone. 

Dead...?

 I sat up and tried the lamp. Nothing too. 

A growing fear in my chest as I walked to the window, looking out at a city that had gone dark. There is none of lifeless, silence, and even the sky seemed eerily void of stars.

A blackout? Maybe. 

I stepped outside and saw others noticed too—All the people came out from their apartments in confusion, whispering, checking their unresponsive devices. 

A man across the street kept tapping at his smartwatch in frustration. A teenage girl closed and reopen her laptop as if it might on.

Then someone screamed.

"Ahhhhh!"

I turned around and noticed an old woman stood on her doorstep, staring at a newspaper with her trembling hands. She was not screaming in fear, but in frustration, panic even. The paper was blank. Not just missing headlines,

Completely,  blank.

My pulse quickened. I ran back inside and open all the drawers, flipping books. Every page was empty. 

Even the text, the images—gone. I grabbed a photo album, the one my mother had given to me before she passed away. It had been filled with memories, 

Blank. Every single page.

The world had lost its record of itself.

————

The first day :

By midday, the chaos had escalated. Phones, computers, even televisions—all screens flickered on but displayed only a blank nothingness. 

Conversations turned frantic as people realized they couldn’t recall certain facts. Passwords were forgotten. Even personal details—GMAIL or the names of lovely relatives, all had became fuzzy. 

It wasn’t just the machines that had lost their memory. People were losing theirs too.

And me, a former software engineer, clung to my thoughts like lifelines, repeating my own name, age, and past. I grabbed a notebook, tried to write down what i could still remember, but nothing was came to my mind.

A man on the street claimed this was a blessing—a reset for humanity. 

The world still functioned in a way as cars ran, water flowed, but the infrastructure that held civilization together—communication, digital records, even written language—was unraveling.

 ————

Day 3:

I wandered through the hollowed-out remains of a once-modern world. Without access to information, people had been relying on spoken word, trading knowledge like currency.

There started to form a group and took charge by strong leaders with strong memories or some skills But still, panic was all around, everyone still concerned about the future days.

There was the day, I went for grocery store to get supplement before everything "out of stock".

And guess what? That was a horrible journey i have met before.

I reached for a can of beans, and for a split second, the entire aisle flickered. All the shelves, the products, even the people around her just blink for second in a sudden. It was as if reality had stuttered. When the moment passed, everything looked the same, but my heart was racing and my fear was ballooning for that moment.

a boy came nearby, seems like no older than twelve, he was staring at me with wide-eyed.

"You saw that too?" he whispered.

I crouched beside him "You’ve seen it before?"

He nodded and said "It happens when you try to remember too much."

Whats the logic was? I couldn't think any of it as it not likely make sense of, “What do you mean?”

The boy then say it with a very determined look, “The world isn’t broken, its being rewritten.”

 ————

Day 5:

After all this, I began testing my memories focused on things i shouldn’t forget as well as my mother’s voice, the smell of rain. Each time when I concentrated hard enough, the world around started glitched, revealing fragments beneath the surface. A ghostly phenomenon.

i saw buildings flickered into different shapes, and the street signs with names that I didn’t recognize, also people who weren’t there before.

Someone was altering the world, in piece by piece.

That night, i found others who had seen the glitches. A small underground group, led by a woman named Wenny, had uncovered a terrifying truth: 

The world wasn’t experiencing a technological collapse. It was a controlled reset.

"Something is erasing our history." Wenny explained. 

"Not just from our minds, but from reality itself. Every time we forget something, it ceases to exist. And whoever is behind this is making sure we never notice.”

"But why?" I asked.

Wenny's expression darkened. “Because something is rewriting us into something else.”

 ————

Day 7:

Me and the group created a plan. 

If memory can anchor reality, they need to create a glitch big enough to expose the source of the rewrite. They gathered together, where thousands of people once gathered to celebrate, but now it was empty.

One by one, they began speaking aloud the most vivid memories they had.

Descriptions of loved ones, lost cities, forgotten songs. As they did, the world trembled.

Buildings blinked and blinked,the sky flickered between day and night. And just for a second, I saw them, tall, faceless beings standing just beyond the edge of perception, watching, waiting.

They were the one of the reset.

And they had noticed me.

 

Now, the world was unstable, reality shifting like a corrupted file. I could feel they were preparing to erase their resistance.

And what I knew for the time.

The world wasn’t theirs to control. It was ours.

With all my strength, she clung to a undeniable truth—my mother's face. The love in her eyes, the way she hummed when she cooked, the warmth of her embrace.

I spoke the memory loudly, forcing it into the fabric of reality. 

The ground cracked beneath me, the city crashed...

Light exploded.

 ————

I awoke to the sound of birds.

The city was still, the sun shone bright, and people were waking up as if from a long dream.

The devices still didn’t work, the books were still empty, but something had changed. People remembered each other. They recalled names, places, emotions. 

I knew they weren’t safe. Not yet. 

The architects might return. But for now, humanity had won a battle they never even knew they were fighting.

And this time, they would not forget.