The lunchroom hummed with noise—laughter, trays clattering, and the buzz of conversations blending together like a never-ending background song. But over at their usual corner by the lockers, the noise seemed to fade. Emma was too focused to notice the chaos around her as she carefully pulled out her notebook. The leather cover was cracked and soft from use, and the edges of the pages were dog-eared and full of scribbles.

She set it down on the table with a soft thud, enough to make Max glance up from his sandwich. Jake, who had been balancing his granola bar on his finger like a seesaw, looked too.

“You’re bringing out the notebook?” Jake asked, smirking. “What is this, another one of your famous history lessons?”

Emma adjusted her green hat, brushing off the teasing like dust from an old fossil. “This isn’t history—it’s local legend.” She tapped the open page with her finger. “Locker 13.”

That got their attention. Max slid his headphones down around his neck, his curiosity piqued. “Wait. The Locker 13? The one everyone says is cursed?”

Jake rolled his eyes. “Cursed. Right. Let me guess—someone opened it, and BAM! Instant ghost. Next thing you know, they’re stuck haunting the school cafeteria forever.” He flapped his arms like a ghost and moaned dramatically, “Ooooo, beware the expired mashed potatoes!”

Lily giggled softly as she traced lines in her sketchbook. She’d started drawing the lockers around them, adding spooky details—a few skulls here, a creepy shadow there. But she looked up, interested. “So... what’s the real story?”

Emma took a deep breath, glancing around as if someone might overhear. Then she leaned in, her voice low but steady. “The story goes back to 1953. There was this kid named Henry Morgan. He was a prankster—loved pulling tricks on teachers, switching out chalk for soap, that kind of thing. And one night—Friday the 13th—he snuck into school after hours, planning his biggest prank yet.”

Jake leaned forward. “What kind of prank?”

Emma’s eyes sparkled. “No one really knows. But here’s the thing... he never got the chance to pull it off. The janitor found the doors wide open the next morning—but Henry? He was gone. Vanished. Poof.”

Max raised an eyebrow. “Wait. Vanished? You mean, like, ran away?”

Emma shook her head. “That’s what they said. But his family swore he didn’t run away. And... he’s not the only one. Every couple of decades, someone disappears near that locker. And it’s always on a Friday the 13th.”

Jake whistled, low and impressed despite himself. “Okay, that’s... creepy.”

Max chuckled nervously. “Come on, Em. You’re telling me there’s some kind of... interdimensional wormhole in a middle school locker? That’s science fiction.”

Emma smirked. “You’re right—it sounds like science fiction. But think about it. Every legend starts somewhere. And sometimes... the strangest ones turn out to be true.”

They all glanced, almost involuntarily, toward the far end of the hall, where a row of old lockers sat in shadow. Most of the lockers were bright and new, painted over with fresh blue paint—but Locker 13 stood out. It was dented and rusted at the corners, the faded number barely visible.

Lily’s pencil scratched softly as she added a glowing outline to the locker in her sketch. “You’re saying... if someone opens it at midnight, they disappear?”

Emma nodded. “That’s the story.”

Jake folded his arms. “And you believe this?”

Emma shrugged. “I believe we should ask why the story exists. Maybe someone opened the locker and nothing happened. Or maybe... they did, and we’ll never know what happened next.”

The hallway seemed to grow quieter as her words hung in the air.

Then Max broke the silence with a snort. “Okay, so let me guess... tonight just happens to be Friday the 13th?”

Emma smiled, her voice taking on a dry, matter-of-fact tone. “Yep.”

Jake sat up straight, his grin wide. “Well then... obviously, we have to check it out.”

Lily shook her head. “Obviously, we don’t.”

Max laughed, but it was a little nervous. “I mean, come on—it’s an old locker. What’s it gonna do? Eat us?” He made a chomping motion with his hands.

Jake’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “I’m serious! What’s the worst that could happen? We open it, we see nothing, and we tell the whole school Emma’s scary story is just that—a story.”

Emma frowned. “It’s not just about proving something, Jake. If you’re wrong... what if the legend is real?”

Jake shrugged. “Then I guess I’ll get my fifteen minutes of fame... as the first kid to disappear in style.” He struck a dramatic pose, hand on his heart.

Lily sighed. “You’re impossible.”

The bell rang, echoing down the hall. They gathered their trays and notebooks, heading back toward class. But Emma paused at the corner, glancing one more time at Locker 13. The metal looked dull and ordinary, like all the others—yet something about it felt... off.

She tightened her grip on her notebook. “Every legend starts with a story,” she murmured under her breath. “Let’s just hope ours doesn’t end with one.”

She hurried after her friends as the hall emptied, leaving the locker behind in silence. The air felt still for a moment. And if anyone had been listening closely, they might’ve heard a soft, distant hum—like the faint sound of something waking up.