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One Haunting Tale from My Childhood

Halloween mystery

Recounting a scary experience.

During the March of 2007, I was living with my maternal grandparents. Our family recently shifted to another city, but my sister was still admitted to the same school. My parents didn’t want to switch schools, since the exams were just two months away. This resulted in my parents renting a room in our old city, while I was sent to my grandparents.

I was just shy of 8 years old; my birthday was in May. While I did live in a scarry house alone during previous year, and was sleeping alone since the age of six, the home of my grandparents was old, double the size of my previous house, and coupled with the soap operas being turned into horror shows during that time, it was a recipe for getting scared. Being blind was the icing on the cake, I suppose.

You might wonder, what exactly do I mean by soap operas being turned into horror shows. Let me explain. Apart from the shows of the usual horror genres, the soap operas actually used some truly scarry sound effects. Sound impacts a blind person like me much more deeply compared to someone who is not blind. This puzzled a lot of people, since I wasn’t scared of a lot of things, but some sound effects and jump-scares got the better of me. Then there was this one soap opera, where they actually showed a skeleton being discovered in a trunk; naturally, they built up to this with some scary sounding promos. This got so bad that once a kid who could live in a house alone, didn’t want to be alone anymore because of the results of all these things combined.

You know what the saddest part is? I get laughed at, and receive tons of mocking for sharing these things. At least I admit to these things, while the people who mock me end up wetting themselves after watching the horror movies. The gutless bastards.

Anyway, continuing on, my grandparents did end up leaving me alone in the house one day, while they had some business to attend to with the neighbors. The shop of my grandfather was closed, located on the ground-floor of the house, and I was left watching Spider-Man, the Animated Series. Incidentally, this was my first exposure to Spider-Man. let’s not go there; tons of sadness lies in that route.

Power was cut, a very common thing in India, and I had to escape the heating room. The power-cuts at that time had time limits and schedules. I can’t decide which one is worst. Scheduled power cut, or an unscheduled one. I moved out of the room, and after moving through the large dining room, I moved to the hall. There are two ways to reach the large balcony; one would require more walking, while the other one was a shorter path. In the spirit of lazy children everywhere, I took the shorter path, through my grandfather’s room, which was basically attached to the hall. As I went to open the door, I heard something behind me. I turned around, my back to the door, but didn’t hear anything else. I was scared to turn my back around, so I started to walk to the entrance to the hall slowly.

Still finding nothing, I moved a little bit to my left. Just before the large mirror hung on the wall, I found a warm body. Judging from the shape of the body, this person was a woman. She grabbed me from my neck, and threw me to the sofa, which was several paces behind me. I was scared, shaking badly. I had to evaluate my options to escape.

My left and right side presented options to escape. Immediately left to the sofa, there was the entrance to the stairs to reach the roof, but I decided not to take that option. The stairs were not built with a quick escape in mind, and I would rather not be alone on a roof with whoever she is. Another path to my left was for downstairs, just after that large mirror. But that woman is standing there. I will never reach those stairs.

To my right, the gates of the balcony were still closed, and I would never be able to open them quickly in my panic. Another escape was the entrance to the hall; this is the longest path, but it seems I had only this one option. The choice was taken out of my hand, when she moved against me. I bashed into her, and ran after stumbling a little after colliding with her, moving in the hall. I could hear her footsteps right behind me. I climbed the step to enter the dining room; thankfully I wasn’t tall enough to bash my head on the wall above yet. I continued to run the length of the dining room, and reached the stairs. This is the alternative path to reach the ground-floor.

I immediately started to climb down, although I nearly fell off due to the awkward bend in the stairs. By this point, I no longer heard her footsteps behind me, but I was so badly panicked that I continued to run. After this quick escape, I reach the area where my grandfather does the daily arti, a small temple within the house much like any other Hindu house. As I heard the door open, a fresh wave of panic struck me. but it dissipated quickly enough, as I heard the voice of my grandfather and grandmother, having returned from whatever business they had in the neighborhood.

As they entered and saw me downstairs, with such a fearful look on my face, they tried to cokes me out of my fear, and understand what had happened. I could not explain the events clearly enough, but they could see I was spooked badly. What was more puzzling to them was that I was normal in just two or three days or so, once more, living in the house alone, without any scares, even during the power cuts.

I do not believe in the supernatural. But this incident remains the scariest in my life, and the fact that I still do not have clear explanations for it, makes it even scarier.

Author’s notes:

This is inspired by a prank pulled on me by my aunt, once, at the same age as the nameless character. I really do want to write a character who is not blind, because sooner or later, someone will start accusing me of only writing blind characters.

Also, this is the first time I’ve written a purely narrative story, where there is no dialog at all.

Anyway, this is my contribution to the Halloween season. I hope you like it. Comment your thoughts below!

By the way, if you are curious about the strange terms used by programmers, then I suggest you read this article.


Published by Tanish Shrivastava

I'm a guy who likes programming, chess, and writing.

6 thoughts on “One Haunting Tale from My Childhood

    1. Well, sort of. Remember, it was a prank. But I only learned of this later, when my aunt confessed, for a day or two, I really thought I saw a ghost.

      Thanks for commenting. I have more horror stories, but sadly, the season is over now. Next year of course, I’ll publish those stories.

      Liked by 1 person

  1. Ha, just like Hetty and 90sgrungechick, I too thought this was non-fiction. You do have a knack for horror, so perhaps it should be something you could explore? Being pranked that way doesn’t sound fun though, I gotta admit.

    I remember having a similar phase in my childhood. I was always able to be home alone. Then there was X-Files and some weird UFO documentary on 90s television, and for a while, I was scared to be alone at home. This story reminded me of that phase.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Actually, this is only one kind of horror story I have planned. The rest are more based around human psychology, and how humans can be the worst and best things in the world, rather than some unknown strange monster or a spirit.


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