Monster by the door

Haunted mansion

Ever since I have been home, I seep during the day and am up and running at night. There are plenty of reasons for that. A lot. But one of them has to be the peace and privacy. I like to be left alone. I like to eat alone, I like to read alone, I like to watch tv alone. I like being left to myself doing everything in a my own queer patterns. I don’t get that during the day. People come out then

It’s not that strange when monsters of our past chase us around. The moment I switch lights on to this huge hall at my Uncle’s / now our place, I have this feeling of a monster lurking around. There’s a reason I don’t watch horror movies, you never know what gets imprinted in your imagination and follows you from there on. It’s totally my imagination I know. But those five seconds before turning the lights on I am mentally preparing myself for the reaction. And the scenarios differ everyday in my head

Sometimes I think what if it comes in a flash, an inch closer to my face and disappears before the light fully spreads. Just in time for me to see those red lips widen and see that foul flashing smile. I will surely scream. And scream a lot. The entire family will run from the neighbouring houses and I’ll just keep screaming “I saw, I saw something, God, there was someone here”, etc etc. But then I don’t know, my reactions are very different when the moment of crises comes in real. But I don’t see myself fainting

I will commit suicide if that ever happened

Sometimes I think what if, when I switch the lights on, it is already sitting on the sofa I sit every night. What if it has slung its shoulders in that lazy fashion over the wooden back and slowly raises its head up as I stand there, thunderstruck and numb with fear. And says something. Sometimes I think the voice will be raspy. Sometimes I picture it smooth and velvety

Sometimes I think what if, I am sitting peacefully, watching a sitcom over the laptop perched in front of me, same hall, same sofa, way into the night, a cloaked figure enters from the backrooms where nobody lives now. I go still at the sound of thick fabric rustling in near distance and it comes forth, and sits right by me. It’s head cocked in a mocking manner, eyebrow pinched up and that wicked smile etched again

cloaked

And tonight.. as I walk to switch the lights on once again. In my head, I see it standing by the door of the drawing-room. Midway, not coming in, not going back. A reluctant figure. He raises his head slowly and dejectedly. Looks me straight in the eye. And goes back. I don’t scream, I don’t faint. I don’t scream. I remove my hands from the row of switches and turn back to my room

I’d like to sleep tonight

lying in the forest