Moving to a new place can be scary. Sometimes it’s the unfamiliar bed, the quiet that replaces a noisy household, or the strange feeling that the space isn’t really yours. But sometimes, the fear isn’t about comfort—it’s about who—or what—else might be living there.

As the pandemic eased and face-to-face classes resumed, my sister and I moved into a dorm near the University of Santo Tomas in Dapitan. Being away from our parents, we were thrilled to have a space of our own.

The room was perfect—spacious, with a large window overlooking the street. For weeks, everything was peaceful and quiet. But, as with most things too good to last, that calm didn’t stay.

My sister often invited friends over to study, and one of them had a “third eye.” She claimed she could see spirits in the Main Building where classes were held. Our room? She didn’t say anything—at first.

Then, after the visit, she told my sister quietly, “There’s a child spirit living in your room.” Apparently, the room’s childlike feel—candies, biscuits, stuffed toys—had drawn the little presence in.

I wanted to believe it was just that. But one night, I woke with a pull I couldn’t explain. The doorknob rattled, like someone trying to get in. I locked the door, I’m sure of it. The dorm was secure—the guard always barricaded the doors—but my heart pounded anyway. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep.

Another night, the feeling returned. I woke to see my sister at her desk, studying as usual. I didn’t think much of it—until morning, when she told me she had been asleep the whole time.

It seemed the spirit was… copying us.

We stayed, learning to coexist with the unseen. A Benedict medal now hangs on our door, a small talisman of protection. The feeling of not being alone never fully leaves.

When we finally moved out, I wondered—did the little presence stay? Or did it move on to our successors? I’ll never know. And maybe that’s the way it should be. Some roommates are meant to linger… quietly, just beyond your sight, reminding you that even in familiar spaces, you’re never truly alone.