Pratik Mainali

Pratik is a high school graduate from Trinity International College, Dilli Bazaar, Kathmandu.

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Published On: November 1, 2018 09:23 AM NPT By: Pratik Mainali

The House

The House

As conscious came gleaming back to me, I found myself standing unsteadily on the dimly lit park, in the dead of the night, without any vague memory of having gotten there. 

The wind was balmy and cutting. My shoes were lathered in mud, my pants soaked and my hair matted. My jaw was aching horribly, and teeth chattering. Murky breathe rattled out painfully from my nose. My steps were wet and squeaky. And they were being printed on the cobbled floor. 

A sharp windswept the earth and the dead leaves hovered over like a wall. As the leaves dispersed, I saw the house and felt strange feelings of familiarity grip me. 

About a hundred feet behind me, sickly yellow street lights were slanting down into the ground. But the place I stood in was completely dark except for the illuminated moon light. I raised my head to see a massive old house standing in front of me. The house was old and rutted and since the roof had caved in, had a tin roof. The tin roof had grayed and shriveled with years. 

A light shot across the fields, and I crouched. A motorbike boomed, and I felt the earth and the air vibrate. The house was calling. I cupped my hands near my face and blew heavy breaths into it. The vibration ebbed away. I stood up, rubbed my hands. The house stood there, motionless. 

As I moved ahead, I could feel a soft breath of the house rippling the stillness. 

The pillar of haze, drifted across the sky unveiling the moon. The blood red moon stared down at me, chilling the very marrow of my bones. 

The moon light above makes the bony white pillar throw its shadow across the floor. And as I walk on that floor, I can feel dread seeping into me, and my ears flushing. The chirping of the insects is making me restless and angry. 

I push the oaken door and it opens with a sharp creak which reverberates against the lofty walls. As I slipped through the opening, I found myself gazing at a lofty room, with velvet draperies hanging on the walls. The darkness had swallowed the ground. Hence, I groped for support, and soon felt a smooth surface. The overpowering sketch of dead rat hung on the room. Sliding my hand on the cold railing, I guided myself along the room. The carpets underneath were soundless. In a moment, I saw moonlight streaming down a window into the floor like a lake, and followed it. I knocked a few metallic objects which then echoed with ringing clatter. The windows, I realized were covered with dust thick as fur. The chair was scruffy with rust. Right next to the window was a thin door. As I pushed it, a languid pond spread slumbering on my feet. 

There was a tender reflection of moon in the pond. The steps are swift and elegant. The wind has dropped considerably. But I could still hear the dull throbbing of the air in a distance. 

Suddenly, the moon was covered by a heavy monstrous cloud. Shadows covered the earth. I felt a sharp stab on the back. A loud ringing of the bell could be heard. And the air began to swell and ripple. I could feel something cold and clammy swirling past me. A shapeless haze, churning from the ground, are enclosing and leaving me. I woke up drenched in sweat. My heart was beating wildly. I sat straight upright on the bed. Beads of sweat hung on my chin and dripped down my shirt. I felt an unpleasant sinking, sickening of the heart. And a horrible feeling hung on my head. As if I woke up and found myself lying in an unfamiliar place. For the past week I have been having this recurring nightmare. But I have never gotten past the nightmare. 



House, moon_light, moon, Shadows,

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