Scary House

After finishing dinner preparations, I glanced at the clock on the wall as I left the kitchen. Oh no, it’s so late! I quickly grabbed the sheet lying on the sofa, wrapped it around myself, put the house key in my purse, and left the house. The Maghrib prayer call had already begun as I was walking, thinking that the kids would say, "Mom forgot to pick us up from tuition today." I hurriedly made my way to their tuition center.

"Mom, you took so long," said seven-year-old Rehan, looking at me with reproachful eyes, while six-year-old Anam was also pouting. Seeing her face made me laugh involuntarily. "Okay, sorry, dear, I’ll be more careful next time and won’t make this mistake again." "We’ll believe you only if you let us stay at grandma's house this Saturday," Anam chimed in, agreeing to Rehan's condition, to which I laughed and agreed.

"Hurry up, your dad will be home soon," I said, holding their hands as we entered a shortcut alley to get home quickly. Normally, I would take the main road, but I often avoided this alley.

"Oh mom, this house is so scary, it gives me the creeps," Rehan said, looking at house number 7, which was engulfed in darkness and emitted an eerie vibe. At his words, I quickly hurried forward with the children. Later that night, as I lay in bed after finishing work, the memory of that house came to mind. My past was connected to that house.

Slowly, I began to recall my past. My name is Aleena. We are three sisters and one brother. My father was in the army, and my mother was a simple housewife. When I was in college, my father bought a big house at my mother’s request because the house we lived in felt too small. The day my father bought the new house, we were all very happy. It was a beautiful two-story bungalow. The lower part had three bedrooms, a large TV lounge, a drawing room, and a kitchen, while the upper part had two bedrooms, a TV lounge, and a study room.

There was a small garden with neem and jujube trees, and the car porch was big enough for one car. My older sister Mehreen was two years older than me, followed by Sana, who was a year older, then me, and the youngest was our brother, who was in seventh grade at that time. We three sisters took the upstairs bedrooms, while Haris stayed downstairs with our parents. Since we were quite scaredy-cats, we all slept in one bedroom.

The day we moved in, we were exhausted from organizing everything. We worked late into the night. "We’ll finish the rest tomorrow. Now go to bed," said my mom after dinner, so we three sisters went upstairs to sleep. We were so tired that we fell asleep immediately. Not long after, I felt like someone was knocking on the door in my sleep. I got up and opened the door, only to find a black cat staring at me. Seeing it made me scream involuntarily. My sisters woke up in a panic.

“What happened? Is everything okay?” Mehreen asked, coming to me. “You got scared of a cat?” she said in surprise, looking at the cat. Embarrassed, I went back to bed.

On Saturday night, we stayed up late talking. It must have been around 2 AM when we heard voices coming from the TV lounge. Who could it be at this hour? We whispered, opening the door. The voices seemed to come from the kitchen. When we peeked into the kitchen, we saw the black cat sitting on the counter. It jumped into the adjacent room upon seeing us. We were still confused about what had happened when we noticed the stove was on, emitting a smell as if something was cooking. Mehreen went ahead and turned off the stove. We were all frightened and mentioned it to mom the next day, but she scolded us, telling us to sleep early.

On Sunday, our aunt came over with her family. They left late at night. We were sitting on the sofa in the TV lounge downstairs, chatting with mom while dad and Haris had gone to bed. Suddenly, mom noticed the stairs and said, "Aleena, dear, check if one of the aunt's kids is still upstairs." Aunt’s small children were quite naughty, so mom thought one might be left upstairs. We saw a shadow of a child on the wall leading up the stairs. I went upstairs to check, but there was no one. Fearful, I quickly came down and told mom. She fell silent.

We were all puzzled about whose shadow it was. A few days later, the matter was forgotten. We had to go to Islamabad for a cousin's wedding. Two weeks later, when we returned home, we were astonished to see the house sparkling clean, as if someone had cleaned it every day. It seemed like the maid had come and cleaned daily.

I went to the bathroom to wash my face and was shocked to see the wet floor, as if someone had used it. This became a routine; whenever we were out, the bathroom would be used, and at night we would hear noises in the kitchen. The black cat was frequently seen roaming around the house.

We gradually became accustomed to these things until one horrific incident occurred, which made us leave the house immediately. One night, mom woke up and felt someone was on the roof. Thinking we sisters were gossiping instead of sleeping, she quietly went to the roof and saw ten to twelve strange figures sitting in a circle. The sight was so terrifying that she fainted. Dad woke up for Fajr prayers, and not finding mom in the room, he went to the lounge and saw her lying unconscious on the stairs.

When mom regained consciousness and told dad about the night’s incident, he decided to leave the house immediately to avoid any greater harm. We left the house before anything worse could happen. Even after all these years, recalling those six months gives us chills. The black cat we thought was just a cat was actually a gost.