Sleepy Night Talk

In the summer of 2008, I forgot to submit my application for the college entrance examination during a game, so I was assigned to an evil junior college built on a mass grave and an abandoned textile factory. Dormitory 307 is the farthest and coldest room in the entire old building. I live with three roommates with weird personalities: The silent and sinister boss, the nervous third child, and the timid fourth child. We are not crazy, nor are we evil. But every night when the lights are turned off, they gather together to tell ghost stories. Midnight red comb, window locks, corridor high heels... Every story is eerie and chilling, and every sentence makes people's heads tingle. The more we talk about it, the more we become afraid, and the more we are afraid, the more we talk about it, amplifying our fear infinitely in the darkness. The wind whimpered outside the window, and there were shadows in the corridors. All horrors come from the deepest imagination of the human heart. There is no real ghost in this dormitory, but it is more suffocating than if there is a ghost. One ball can ruin a life, and one can hide inner demons. From the day we moved into 307, we were trapped in a hell on earth by our own fears.