Anirdishth

2. Knock thrice

This is perhaps not as scary as other ghost stories out there. But it was something I experienced myself; and while nothing serious or terrible happened, it left behind an odd memory of maybe the supernatural.

This was around the time when I was still in school. Perhaps I was in the 6th or 7th grade. Around that time, there was a hype for ghost stories. We'd sit in circles and share ghostly experiences, urban legends and sometimes we'd just make them up and scare each other. It was common for us to play 'Bloody Mary' or the Ouija during the recess break. One such session, a classmate gave us all an odd piece of advice –

"Open the door only after it's knocked thrice."

She said her granddad had told her about it; that if someone knocks at your door in the odd hours of time, you have to wait for at least three knocks. It doesn't matter if they're calling out your name or begging for an emergency. If it's not three knocks, it's trouble.

To our occult loving minds, it was solid advice. We nodded our heads in agreement, sharing other similar things and while the conversation shifted, her advice lodged in somewhere deep in my mind.

I lived with my family in a two storeyed house. My room, on the second floor was not connected to our main house. Instead you'd have to take the common stairs to get there. I loved the privacy and space it gave, and wasn't bothered by the inconvenience of sharing the stairway with my neighbours.

In fact I was well acquainted with the neighbours and it was like, I had my own house out there. Haha.

Well, back to the story, I was an early sleeper back then, and would be dead asleep by 11 at the most. I was also a heavy sleeper, so good luck trying to wake me once I've crashed.

So, when I woke up to the soft call of my name, I was quite surprised.

It was close to 3 in the morning. The room was pitch dark.

The only light coming in was from the frosted window glass, reflecting the street lights outside.

As my eyes adjusted, I confirmed a couple things.

There was no one in the room besides me. The door was locked, but the window...

There was someone there.

A dark silhouette stood by the window, features blurred by the frosted glass.

It called out, "Open up, let me in!"

The voice was soft, unhurried. There was a knock on the door.

Was it my dad? What was he doing, up so late?

"Open up."

I couldn't make out if the voice was male or female. It was almost like in between.

A soft yet deep voice. Light, comforting.

"Hey! You there?"

Another knock echoed.

I got up confused, ready to open the door when suddenly...

I was reminded of the advice.

It had been several weeks since that conversation. Yet somehow, it came back like it was yesterday.

'If its not three knocks, its trouble.'

"Jen? You there?"

It called out my name. (Alias here)

I hesitated... and waited. One more knock and I'd open.

.

.

It never came.

The silhouette seemed to have disappeared from the window.

Exhaustion rushed back to me and I was out cold. When I woke up, nothing was out of place.

I went around asking everyone at home and the neighbours if they'd come over in the night. Or atleast if they'd seen anyone come that way.

No one knew anything.

Perhaps it was just a rogue spirit passing by. But when I imagine what may have happened if I had opened the door.... I get chills down my spine.