Read Online The Ghost Stories I Experienced

On that quiet night, I walked alone on the empty street, ready to buy a ticket to school. Pushing open the door of the station waiting room, I saw the long-haired girl in front of the ticket window, but she didn't seem to be human. The fear in the dream made me realize that this seemingly ordinary journey was actually a battle with the god of death. That night, I dreamed that the wheels of the shuttle were facing the sky, black air was steaming, and I was sucked towards the death bus by a mysterious force. When I woke up, I found myself at the station with my father, and the bus was parked in front of us. On the bus, there was an old man and a pair of young boys, who seemed unusual. I felt a strong chill and was filled with fear. I tried to get off the bus, but found that I couldn't move. I impulsively stabbed myself with a compass and finally jumped out of the car successfully. At that moment, I knew that I had escaped the clutches of the god of death. As the sky gradually brightened, my father and I found that all the passages were locked, and the bus had left at some point. When we tried to return to the waiting room, we were surprised to find that all the doors were locked. We could only sit on the steps and wait until two security guards showed up. They accused us of being thieves, took us to the security room, and called the police. However, the stationmaster and the police could not explain it all. At this time, my uncle showed up. He vouched for us, allowing my father and I to leave. However, his words shocked me: there have been frequent deaths recently, as if the real version of the Grim Reaper is coming. I suddenly remembered the two boys, who had no shadows and floated onto the bus. I realized that they might be the ones who died. When I told my uncle my guess, his eyes widened. I described the dream scene to him in detail, as well as the strange events we experienced. Finally, he decided to report to the station and ask for a new station. After the new station was built, this kind of thing never happened again. The original old station was demolished and a temple was built for the use of the elderly activity center. I once asked my uncle how he wrote his report, and he said that of course he couldn't write the truth. Otherwise, who would entertain those who might be from the state secret department? I was speechless and could only be thankful that I had escaped the shadow of death.

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