One night, my dad went to the bathroom and tried to turn on the light. When he reached for the light switch, he felt someone’s hand already there. He quickly pulled his hand back, shocked. But curiosity got the better of him, and he reached out again. The switch was now empty—no hand, no sign of anyone. He flipped the light on, and the bathroom was just as empty as it should have been.

He shook his head, thinking he might be tired, and turned off the light to go back to bed. But as he stepped away, he heard a soft, almost playful click. The light had turned on again.

Confused, he went back, turned the switch off, and stood still, waiting. Seconds later, the light flicked back on by itself. A chill ran down his spine. He decided not to test it further and quickly returned to his bedroom.

The next morning, he tried to shake it off as a weird power glitch. But as he passed by the bathroom, he saw something strange on the wall near the light switch—a faint outline, like the shape of a handprint, barely visible, as if someone had pressed their hand there many times before. He never used that switch again at night.