Maya sat up, her heart thudding. She waited for some time, but the knocks didn't come again.
Thinking for a moment, she slipped out of bed, bare feet touching the cold wood floor. The hallway was dim, moonlight spilling through the windows. At the end, the door stood perfectly still. No movement. No sound. But the air felt... dense. Like it was holding its breath.
She crept closer, every step followed by a soft creak. As she reached the halfway point, she paused.
'Was someone breathing on the other side?'
She turned around quickly, scolding herself. Maybe it was just a draft, she told herself. Houses made noises. She repeatedly told herself, especially old ones.
Besides, Amma had warned them not to go there and even care about it. She wasn't going to break that trust, trust of her only remaining guardian and parental figure.
Going back to bed, she pulled the covers over her head like she used to as a kid. As if a blanket could protect her from whatever she thought she felt out there.
Time passed, and the morning arrived. Even in the morning, the door was still shut, as if nothing had happened.
At breakfast, Arjun pushed his toast around his plate to show some displeasure.
"What's wrong?" Maya asked, curious about Arjun's action.
He looked up, his voice quiet and still. "She doesn't like that you listened."
Maya blinked at his words.
"Who?" She asked, surprised by what he said.
At her words, Arjun hesitated. The silence sent chills down Maya, and she had a bad feeling about this.
Then Arjun spoke... "Mina," in a very different tone.
Amma dropped the spoon as soon as she heard the name. It clattered onto the floor and spun in circles before falling flat. She didn't even move to pick it up, and in the room, only the clattering sound of a spoon could be heard.
"Where did you hear that name?" Amma's voice was sharp, almost angry.
"Mina said—"
"No," Amma interrupted. "No, she didn't. And you'll never say it again."
Arjun frowned, confused at Amma's words and behaviour.
"But she told me. She said her name last night. She said the house showed her."
Maya looked between them. "Is this some story? A game I am not aware of?"
But Amma couldn't care about Maya's confusion and words. Her face had gone pale. She rose slowly, wiped her hands on her apron, and walked out of the kitchen without another word.
No one said anything, and Arjun continued his breakfast without answering Maya's confused face.
Later, Arjun was drawing on the porch. His crayons were scattered, and he hummed a strange, tuneless melody.
Maya walked towards him and sat beside him to peek at his paper.
In the paper, she saw a picture of a girl standing by a dark door. Her hair was long and braided, her eyes black ovals. No pupils. Behind her were stick figures of children, some with tears, others with twisted limbs.
"That's her," he said cheerfully. "Mina."
Maya flinched and gulped her spit.
"How do you know what she looks like?" She asked, bothered by the drawing and words.
"She showed me."
As he said the words, Maya felt the air cool around them, though the sun still shone brightly.
"Where did she show you?" She continued her questions.
"In my dreams. And when I go near the door."
"You've been near it?" Maya spoke, clearly shocked and terrified by his words.
But in contrast to Maya's emotions, Arjun was calm, almost indifferent. He nodded without looking at her and continued, "She whispers sometimes. She said she used to live in this house."
That night, Maya couldn't sleep. She stood by the bedroom window, watching the tree sway in a breeze that didn't seem to exist, but the wind chime clinked steadily.
Three knocks. Pause. Two knocks. Again.
She threw off the covers and stormed into the hall, determined to end whatever this was. Amma's words seemed to have slipped out of her mind, and Maya was worried about Arjun and his behaviour.
But the door was just there... quiet, unmoving. She reached out, almost touching the knob.
Then she saw it.
A shadow moved beneath the crack at the bottom.
She stepped back instantly, heart hammering. Her breath came quickly, shallow.
And then....a laugh
Haha! Hahahaha! Haha! Hahahaha!
A child's laugh. High-pitched. Sweet. Echoing softly through the corridor.
The laughter sent chills down Maya, but before she could infer more, her vision blanked.
The next day, Maya found an old trunk in the attic.
She hadn't been looking for anything, just following a strange feeling in her heart, the feeling that seemed to be guiding her.
As for last night's events, Maya felt that she had seen something, but at the same time, she couldn't remember anything. Everything was like a hazy dream she couldn't remember.
The trunk was buried under blankets and moth-eaten quilts. Inside were photo albums, letters, and loose photographs.
And one photo made her stop cold.
A little girl, seven or eight, with black braids, wearing a dress with daisies on it. She had a strange tilt to her head. Something unnatural. Her smile didn't reach her eyes.
Scrawled on the back: "Mina. Taken before the fire."
Maya's blood ran cold at what she saw.
She hurriedly flipped through more photos. Some were burnt around the edges.
One showed a room charred and blackened.
Another showed the same hallway from the house, but an older, wallpapered door was slightly open.
And another... a child's shoe.
A paper was folded between the photos. A letter.
To whoever finds this—
We couldn't get her out. Mina. She was in the room. But when the fire came, the door wouldn't open. It is locked from the inside. We heard her scream. And then... silence.
But when the firemen came, there was nobody. Nothing. Just her doll. And the smell of roses.
After that, the house changed.
And... She seems to have never left...
Maya felt like the air had been sucked from the attic.
She ran downstairs and confronted Amma.
"What happened to Mina?"
Amma was sitting silently on the veranda, rosary beads in her hand, lips moving in prayer. When she looked up, her eyes were rimmed with red.
"I warned your mother not to let you come here. I told her this place was not for children anymore. But it seems...."
"Who was Mina?" Maya, not caring about Amma's words, asked the question in her mind.
Amma's voice cracked. Her eyes were red and she stuttered, "M-My Sis-Sis-Sister."
Maya froze at the absurd word she seemed to have heard.
"She was younger. Sweet. Curious. But the house... it favoured her. We didn't know then. We thought she was just lonely, always talking to imaginary friends. Then the fire. Everyone blamed the candles. But I know what I saw."
Speaking those words, Amma closed her eyes. Only a moment later, that seemed to last an eternity, she spoke in a strange tone.
"The house didn't burn her. It kept her."
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