Knock, Knock

A few weeks have already passed since 'that day' and things have gotten… 'stranger' to say the least.

I feel like I have released an otherworldly entity or energy into this house by opening that vault,

everything seems a little weird and uncanny.

I have also started to notice a lot of finer details that perhaps I ignored in the beginning,

like misplaced furniture and objects that no matter how many times relocated would end up in the same place.

I have also noticed my possessions going missing randomly and then reappearing out of nowhere in a different location.

I tried blaming it on the cat in the beginning, but I haven't been able to lay my sight on that thing in nearly a month now, surely,

I would've seen her right?

Ever since last week I have also noticed a certain shadowy figure moving in the corner of my eyes at times only for it to disappear when I move.

I have started to doubt my own sanity at this point,

'what if this is all just part of my imagination,

maybe I am just not used to being all alone and my mind is playing tricks on me, maybe none of this is real'.

These thoughts have started to make it harder for me to fall asleep at night, causing an almost panic-inducing anxiety to creep up my body whenever I catch my mind drifting off….

I shifted my weight as I turned on the bed to stare at the ceiling, listening in on all the noises in my surroundings, a habit I have recently acquired involuntarily.

The sound of the branches brushing off the window in the wind or the small creaking of the floor above my head cause an uncomfortable knot in the pit of my stomach.

There are times where I am almost sure that I am being watched, subconsciously stopping at random intervals during the day to look over my shoulder,

During the night any dark corners of the house seem more eerie and unbearable to look at therefore I have started to light every candle as soon as the sky starts to turn dark.

I sighed loudly as I turned my head to stare at the large closet covering the left side of the room,

biting my lip I anxiously contemplated, 'if this keeps going I might have to sleep with one eye open at night'.

'I have barely even explored this place and all I want to do is to just hide in my room as much as I can' I felt pathetic and small.

I scrunched my brows as I thought further,

mindlessly tracing the intricate designs on the wooden closet door with my eyes.

I always knew I had an overactive imagination,

a huge reason on why I became a writer in the first place,

To escape reality most of the time I could daydream with my eyes open, a skill that was very useful in my line of work.

However, with the events of these last few days I am beginning to question whether imagination and daydreaming could be this vivid and real.

In that moment as I lay on the bed half drowsy the room was weirdly quiet,

Then it happened, three loud consecutive knocks on the wooden closet door.

I froze in my place and just listened, not even daring to look in that direction for a few minutes.

In that moment everything seemed too clear and vivid to not be real, up to that point I always had a reason or excuse for my doubts and suspicions and in that moment, I couldn't think of any.

I was instantly alert as one thought kept playing over and over in my mind,

this place was haunted!

I jolted to a standing position, yet my feet were too week to run so I slowly crept forward and for some stupid reason I walked towards the closet,

I seemed in a daze as I slowly pressed my ear to the door listening, it seemed like forever before I heard it again,

1,2,3 loud knocks,

coming from inside the closet, this time it was followed by a faint murmur, almost inaudible,

so, I listened more intently, involuntarily, prevented by a force from leaving, waiting for something to happen,

"Leave" this time a little louder it mumbled, the voice seemed weak and frail but it didn't stop the chills from running down my spine, and almost immediately the fog was removed and I could run,

so I did…..

I ran until I felt the cold biting air on my face,

and the rough hard growing underneath my bare feet.