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“The building they lived in was one of my regular hangout spots, so I thought maybe I should drop in for a visit. As I climbed the stairs, I saw two tall, similar-looking men (they might’ve been twins) coming out of her apartment. They wore all black and looked really strange and out of place. Terrified, I told my parents, and they let other people in the building know. All of us and a few cops went there to investigate, but no one answered the door. The cops barged in, and the whole apartment was white. The walls, furniture, plates, everything was white, except for one thing — the words ‘help me’ written in Hebrew, in red ink.
The cops launched a formal investigation on the family and tried to contact the parents. The girl didn’t come to school after that day; the apartment remained empty. Then some weeks later, the cops found her dad’s workplace — a chemical factory near a swamp. The workers said he hadn’t shown up to work for weeks. Later that night, they found him dead in the swamp.
The apartment was sealed and locked; nobody from the outside was allowed at the building anymore. The next day, my dad got a call from his friend who lived in the building, saying he saw the twins again, this time with her mother. The cops were alerted, but they couldn’t find them. A few days later, someone found the girl’s body. They said she died around the same time as her dad.
To this day, no one knows what happened to them, who the twins where, why they came here, why the girl trusted me and taught me Hebrew, or where they are now. They were never seen again, the building was torn down shortly, and all further news about it was covered up. I still believe that she trusted me to help her get out from whatever twisted thing was going on in her family. I wonder if I had been there just a little earlier, if perhaps she and her dad would still be alive.”