The house That knew My name

"I was walking home when I noticed an old house at the end of a street I've never seen before. All the windows were boarded up except one upstairs, and there was a light on behind it. I don't know why I went inside. I just felt like I was supposed to. The front door was already open. Inside, everything was covered in dust except a path through the hallway, like someone had been walking there recently. I called out, but my voice came back wrong—slower, like an echo that didn't match me. I went upstairs toward the light, but every door I opened led back to the same hallway. At one point I heard a chair scrape across the floor in a room I'd already checked. When I finally got to the lit room, there was just an old TV playing static, and someone had written my name in the dust on the screen. I woke up before I could turn around."