Level: B1

Clara sat by the window, yawning and drinking tea. She was seven months pregnant, and the baby growing inside her was making her very tired.

Clara should have felt excited, but instead she was lonely. She and her husband had just moved to North Street, leaving behind her old job and her friends. The new house was pleasant enough, but the street was quiet, and the neighbours never spoke to her.

Her husband, Matt, worked long hours at the hospital. This meant that most evenings, Clara ate dinner alone, listening to the clock tick slowly. The silence made the house feel even bigger than it was.

Without anyone to talk to or a job to go to, the days passed slowly. As a result, Clara had started taking naps in the middle of the day.

One afternoon, there was a knock at the door. When she opened it, an old woman stood there smiling. She was wearing a red scarf and holding a small cake.

“Hello, dear. I’m Mrs. Wood. “I live two doors down, at number 23,” the woman said. “I thought you might like this.”

Clara was surprised but grateful. “Oh, thank you! That looks delicious. Please, come in, and I’ll make us some tea.”

They sat in the living room and chatted over tea and cake. Clara learned that Mrs. Wood was a widow and that her only son, Andrew, lived in another city. She also learned that Mrs. Wood had a passion for baking and made a different cake every day. They were so busy talking that the time flew by, and before they knew it, it was starting to get dark.

‘‘Goodness, look at the time,’’ said Mrs. Wood. I must be getting back. ‘‘My son visits every Tuesday, and if I don’t answer the door, he gets worried.’’

“Please come again,” said Clara. ‘‘It has been so nice to have some company. Today is the first time in weeks that I have spoken to anyone except my husband.’’

From that day on, Mrs. Wood came almost every afternoon. She always brought a small cake—chocolate, lemon, or fruit. They would sit, talk, and laugh. Clara told her about her life, and Mrs. Wood shared stories about her own childhood. For the first time since moving to North Street, Clara felt she had a friend.

One Tuesday afternoon, after Mrs. Wood had left, Clara noticed a red scarf on the sofa. It must have slipped from the old lady’s shoulders as she was getting up to leave.

She put on her coat and walked down the road to number 23, scarf in hand.

As she reached the gate, she saw someone leaving the house. It was a young man, carrying some letters. Clara guessed he must be Mrs. Wood’s son. Relieved, she held out the scarf.

“Hello! You must be Andrew.’’

‘Um, yes. “I am,” he said, with a puzzled look on his face. ’How do you know my name?’’

“I am a friend of your mother’s,” Clara continued.

The man frowned. “My mother?”

“Yes, Mrs. Wood. She lives here, doesn’t she? We’ve become friends, and she visits me every afternoon.” Clara smiled nervously.

The man’s face grew pale. He shook his head. “No… I think you must be mistaken; Mrs. Wood was my mother, but she died last year. Nobody lives here now. I’ve just come to collect the mail.”

Clara froze, staring at the scarf in her hand. It was still warm, as if someone had just been wearing it.

📒 Key vocabulary

• yawning – stretching the mouth open because of fatigue
• pregnant – when a woman is going to have a baby
• lonely – feeling alone and sad
• knock – the sound of someone hitting the door to enter
• widow – a woman whose husband has died
• grateful – feeling thankful
• gate – a door in a fence or wall outside a house
• frown – to make a serious or worried face
• pale – light in color, often because of shock or fear
• frozen – unable to move, often because of fear

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It was a wet October evening. The wind howled outside the old library as Nancy locked the heavy front door. She was the only staff member working late that night. The library was always different after dark. The bookshelves looked taller, the lights seemed to flicker, and the place always felt much cooler.

Nancy told herself she was not afraid, but the silence made her nervous. She spent the next fifteen minutes tidying and turning off the computers, then, just as she was about to put her coat on and go home, she heard a voice. It came from the far end of the reading room.

“Hello?” she said, her voice shaking.

But there was no answer.

She walked slowly toward the sound. Her shoes made quiet taps on the wooden floor. The voice came again. This time, it was clearer. It sounded soft but urgent:

“Help me.”

Nancy stopped. She knew the library was empty, as she had seen the last person leave over an hour before. Puzzled, she took her phone out of her pocket and turned on the torch. As the beam of light moved across the back wall, revealing a narrow line half hidden by one of the shelves. After removing some heavy books, Nancy was able to push the shelf aside. It was then that she realised the line was part of a door.

Nancy’s heart beat fast as she reached for the door handle. The door creaked open. Inside was a small, dark room. It smelt of old paper and damp wood.

In the room, she saw a single wooden chair and an old book on the floor. Even though the air was still, the pages moved slowly.

“Help me,” the voice whispered again. This time, it came from the book.

Nancy moved closer. The letters on the page moved. She could read them clearly: I am trapped. Take my place.

Cold fear ran through her body. She wanted to run, but she could not move.

Suddenly, cold hands grabbed her shoulders. She tried to scream—but no sound came out. The pages turned faster. A dark shadow rose from the book and pulled her toward the pages.

Her vision blurred. The room turned. The last thing she saw was the open page—with a picture of herself inside the book, looking out.

Early the next morning, a new librarian arrived. As usual, the place was quiet, yet something felt different. Suddenly, she noticed that one of the bookshelves was out of place. As she made her way towards it, she saw the open door. Curious and excited, she put down her books and went inside.

 On the floor lay a phone with its torch still shining. Next to it was an old book.

 It was not a book she recognised.  … And it seemed to be crying out for help.

📒 Key vocabulary

• howled – made a loud, long sound, like wind or an animal
• flickered – shone with an unsteady or moving light
• faint – very quiet or weak
• torch – flashlight
• damp – slightly wet
• trapped – unable to escape
• shadow – a dark shape made when light is blocked
• blurred – not clear or hard to see

🤔 Comprehension quiz

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It was a dark and stormy night when Mark arrived at the house. Rain hit the windows like small stones, and the wind made the trees outside shake and groan. Mark had never been to this house before. His uncle had died the month before and left it to him in his will. Mark didn’t know much about his uncle, only that he lived alone and rarely spoke to anyone.

The house stood alone in the countryside, far from the village. Mark parked his car and quickly ran to the door. He used the key and opened it. The door creaked loudly. Inside, it was cold, dark, and quiet. Dust covered the furniture, and cobwebs filled the corners. Strange paintings of people with blank faces were on the walls. The air smelt of old paper and wet wood.

Upstairs, Mark found three bedrooms and a small study. But one door at the end of the hallway caught his attention. It was black and had a heavy lock. He tried all the keys, but none worked. He leaned closer.

Thump.

Something moved inside. Or was it just his imagination?

That night, Mark couldn’t sleep. The wind howled, and strange sounds came from upstairs—soft scratching, whispers, and quiet knocks. He tried to stay calm and told himself it was only the old house making noises. But he didn’t believe it.

The next day, he went to the village and asked an old woman at the small shop about the house.

“The locked room?” she said with a frown. “Your uncle warned everyone never to open that door. He believed something evil lived in that room.”

Mark laughed nervously. “Do you mean a ghost?”

But the woman didn’t smile. “Worse than a ghost.”

That night, the noises came back—louder and faster. Mark couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed a torch and an umbrella for self-defence. Just after midnight, he went upstairs. His heart was beating fast. The black door was shaking as though something was trying to get out.

He forced it open. The room inside was freezing cold. A single chair stood in the centre, facing the wall. On it sat a tape recorder. Mark stepped inside and pressed play.

His uncle’s voice spoke: “If you hear this, it means I’ve failed. It’s awake. Do not stay. Leave the house now.”

Suddenly, the door slammed shut behind him. Mark turned around. In the shadows, something moved. Something with glowing red eyes.

 And then—the lights went out.

📒 Key vocabulary

• groan – make a sound of deep unhappiness
• will – a legal document that says what is to happen to somebody’s money and property after they die
• warned – to have told someone about a possible danger or problem in order to prevent harm
• slammed (shut) – closed loudly with force
• glowing – shining brightly

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Lena was tired of city life and her boring office job. So, when her cousin asked her to look after his pets for a year in his cottage in the countryside, she accepted his offer right away. She gave up her room in the flat she shared in London, packed her things, and took the train north to the quiet village of Stonely.

Lena soon settled into village life and enjoyed the company of the cats. But the silence of the cottage house was too quiet—unnaturally quiet. The wind whispered through cracks in the wooden walls, and at night the floorboards seemed to groan under invisible footsteps. She wanted peace, but now she wasn’t sure if she was truly alone.

One evening, Lena decided to go up and check. She climbed the wooden stairs slowly. Each step made a loud creak. When she opened the attic door, the cold air hit her face. The room was dark and full of old furniture and boxes.

In the corner, she saw a large mirror. It was tall, with a black wooden frame. The glass was dirty, but she could still see her reflection. As she looked into it, something felt strange. Her reflection didn’t move the same way she did. When she raised her right hand, the reflection raised its left.

Lena stepped back, confused.

“That’s not possible,” she whispered.

She turned off the light and left the attic, trying to forget about the mirror. But that night, she couldn’t sleep. She felt like someone was watching her.

The next day, she returned to the attic. The mirror was still there. This time, she cleaned the glass to see better. As she wiped it, the reflection smiled — but Lena didn’t. She froze. The reflection moved on its own.

Suddenly, the attic door slammed shut. The lights flickered. Lena ran to the door, but it wouldn’t open. Behind her, the mirror started to shake. She turned around and saw the reflection reaching out from the glass.

“Help me,” it whispered in her voice.

Lena screamed. The reflection pulled harder, trying to come through. Its eyes were black, and its smile was wide and evil.

Then, everything went dark.

***

When the police came days later, they found the attic door open. The mirror stood quietly in the corner. But Lena was gone.

In the glass, if you look closely, you can still see her. She’s standing there, with black eyes and a silent scream on her face.

And sometimes…the mirror smiles.

📒 Key vocabulary

• attic – the space or room just below the roof of a house.
• creak – to make a sharp, high sound, usually when something is old or moves slowly.
• reflection – an image that you can see in a mirror or on a shiny surface.
• whisper – to speak very quietly, using the breath but not the voice.
• slam – to close with a loud noise or force.

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