The Lullaby from an Empty Room | After Midnight
Real Ghost Stories Online
Real Ghost Stories Online | Paranormal, Supernatural & Horror Radio
4.2 • 3.6K Ratings
🗓️ 10 September 2025
⏱️ 12 minutes
🧾️ Download transcript
Summary
It began when she was just four years old, lying in bed unable to sleep. That’s when a woman’s voice began to sing a lullaby. The room was empty, the only TV in the house was silent, and yet the voice was there. Later, she felt the unmistakable presence of someone sitting by her bed — even a touch against her arm through the blanket.
Her house grew stranger as she grew older. At night, the hallway always seemed to have eyes. Footsteps echoed when no one walked. The porch door screeched open and shut even when she stood right in front of it. But the true escalation came in grade eight, when she and her best friend Annie began to notice cold spots at school — icy breezes brushing only their necks or shoulders. Annie later woke to a tall, glowing white figure at the end of her bed. Around the same time, she saw someone walk behind a tree in her neighbor’s yard… and never emerge.
For years the activity continued — footsteps, voices, icy breezes, moving objects — until it slowly faded in her late teens. Was it coincidence? Or was it the mark of a poltergeist, drawn to the energy of adolescence?
This is more than a haunted house tale. It’s a chilling look at how spirits — or something stranger — can weave themselves into our childhoods and follow us into adulthood.
#ghoststory #truehaunting #paranormal #poltergeist #shadowpeople #hauntedhouse #ghostlyfootsteps #trueghoststories #coldspots #doppelganger #paranormalactivity #apparition #ghostly voices
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Transcript
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| 0:00.0 | Midnight has passed, and in the stillness of these hours, the hauntings are never silent. |
| 0:08.8 | This is Real Ghost Stories Online. |
| 0:13.0 | After midnight. |
| 0:14.7 | The first sound wasn't footsteps or a knock or even a voice. It was a song. |
| 0:19.6 | She was four, maybe five, lying awake in her bed. |
| 0:23.6 | The kind of restless night, every child knows, the sheets tangled around her legs, the house |
| 0:28.3 | quiet in that peculiar way where silence feels too heavy. And then from somewhere close a woman |
| 0:35.1 | began to sing, a lullaby, soft, careful, the kind of melody that should have soothed her, except she couldn't find the woman it belonged to. |
| 0:47.0 | She sat up blinking in the glow of the nightlight. |
| 0:50.4 | The room was empty. |
| 0:51.8 | The hallway outside was empty. |
| 1:11.3 | The only television was on the far side of the house, and it was silent. The voice was here, in the air, close enough to touch. She never forgot it. Maybe it was a dream, she sometimes tells herself. Maybe she was half asleep, and her brain was stitching pieces of memory into sound. |
| 1:14.7 | But deep down, she doesn't believe that. |
| 1:19.6 | Deep down, she knows she heard a lullaby sung by someone who wasn't there. |
| 1:21.4 | It didn't stop there. |
| 1:24.4 | A year or two later, the nights became heavier. |
| 1:27.8 | She liked to sleep with a light on, tucked beneath the blankets, |
| 1:33.9 | so the glow shone through like the sun through stained glass. But one night, hidden beneath the fabric, she felt it. Someone was in the room with her. Not her parents. The door squeaked |
| 1:40.7 | loud enough that she would have heard them come in. This was different, silent, watching. |
| 1:47.3 | She tried to make sense of it the way children do, |
| 1:49.6 | shaping the unknown into something familiar. |
| 1:52.7 | She told herself, it was a grandmother. |
... |
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