This story is called Malik and The Secret Room.
There was once a boy named Malik who loved puzzles, mysteries, and anything that felt just a little bit forbidden. One day, while playing an online game, he overheard some older kids whispering about a secret place online. It was a place with strange videos, wild conversations, and things “too mature for kids.” They called it The Room, and said you could only get in with a special code.
Malik didn’t know exactly what was in The Room. Part of him didn’t even want to know. But the curiosity itched at him like a mosquito bite he couldn’t ignore. Days later, a message popped up in a chat: “Want the code?” Before he could think twice, Malik typed yes.
That night, alone in his room, Malik entered the code into a strange-looking site. A dark, metallic door that was humming with energy appeared on his screen. He clicked on it.
The screen shifted. He was inside.
At first, it was just weird, but weird in a way that made Malik’s heart race with excitement. The colors on the screen were too bright, the sounds too sharp. The menus twisted and shifted like they were alive. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be here, and that made it even more exciting. It felt like sneaking into a secret room in a castle, one that everyone whispered about but no one dared to enter.
He clicked on a video. It started off like a regular vlog. Someone talking about their day, smiling into the camera. But then, the voice got louder, then distorted. The background behind the person began to flicker, showing flashes of strange, shadowy shapes. Malik clicked away, unsettled.
He entered a chatroom. At first, it was full of emojis and jokes. But then the messages turned mean. Strangers started saying disgusting and cruel things, even though they didn’t know him. He tried to type something back, but his fingers froze.
In another corner of the site, he found a stream of videos that promised “real stuff they don’t want you to see.” Curiosity pulled him in. But what he saw made his stomach twist. People getting hurt. Others laughing at it. Some clips were blurred, others weren’t. Malik’s hands got cold. He didn’t know if what he was seeing was real or fake, but it felt wrong.
He tried to leave. He clicked the “X” in the corner. Nothing happened. He pressed the escape key. The screen flickered, then pulled him deeper—new windows opening, new sounds playing, more voices whispering things he couldn’t quite understand.
He was stuck. And scared.
Then, through the door he had come in through, Malik saw something—his dad, walking past his room. Malik hesitated. He’d get in trouble. He wasn’t supposed to be here.
“Dad!” he called out.
His dad opened the door, saw the screen, and immediately stepped in. With a few quick clicks, he shut the laptop and pulled Malik into a hug.
Later, they sat together on the couch. Malik told him everything about the code, the curiosity, the videos, and the fear.
His dad listened carefully. “I’m sorry that happened to you. Now you know better why age limits are set on apps. It means there is something there that isn’t okay for someone your age.”
Malik nodded slowly. “I didn’t think it would be that bad.”
“I know,” his dad said. “But I’m proud of you for calling for help. That’s how we get out—by not facing it alone.”
From that day on, Malik learned to be more cautious online. He still loved being there, but now he knew that some doors are locked for a reason. And if he ever felt lost again, he knew exactly who to call.
