Haunting Memories

Chapter 5

Ritika lay in bed, her eyes wide open. She hadn’t slept in a few nights, and the dark circles she had hidden under layers of makeup now showed on her washed face. She looked at her bedside clock for the hundredth time. It was past one. She had been trying to sleep since the past two hours. She reached for her bed side lamp, but felt the floor vibrate and stilled her hand. Her body froze and her heart beat faster. She stayed still for over a minute, but the bed didn’t move. Too wired now to be sleepy, but with nothing else to do, she lay back down.

“You’re making it up,” she whispered to herself, “Nothing happened. Nothing has happened the past week.”

She heard a crash in the adjoining bedroom and her heart sank. Her hands trembled as she finally switched on the lamp and sat up in bed. She knew what she would find when she went to their bedroom. She wondered what had fallen to the ground now. The floor in her previous bedroom was already littered with pieces of glass and porcelain, a few breaking every night. She was surprised there was still anything breakable left in the room. She thought a minute, wondering if she should just try to go to sleep, or whether she should check. She glanced at the picture frame on her bedside, the only thing she had brought with herself from her previous room. She saw Aarav smiling at her affectionately in the picture, as she smiled happily into the camera. Too tired to cry, she just sighed and closed her eyes. A loud crash made her open her eyes. She got up and walked to her door, staring at it uncertainly. Steadying her trembling hand, she turned the knob and pulled the door open. As she stepped out into the corridor, the fragrance of Aarav’s favourite perfume hit her, and her eyes grew wide in shock. She went and stood infront of her previous bedroom and realised that the smell was coming from within. She couldn’t bring herself to open the door, and went to stand near the balustrade. She looked down at the ground floor below, at the silent sofas and tables of the sitting area. All seemed quite. Hopefully her new guest would not have any nocturnal adventures. Nothing had ever happened on the ground floor, and she was counting on it to stay that way. That was why all her servants had strict instructions to stay on the ground floor during the night. Some thought it was her strange way of mourning, others thought it was some kind of obsession with privacy, and she never cleared their doubts. Whatever was bothering her was her problem, and she wouldn’t let it hurt her staff.  She looked to the third bedroom along the corridor, the one in which her sister slept, and felt a guilty satisfaction. She wasn’t alone today.

She heard the floor boards creak behind her, and whirled around. She stood peering in to the darkness, her back against the railing, her nails digging into the wood. She tried to calm her heart, tried to hear above it beating hard. A sigh emanated from infront of her old bedroom, and she stared at the door in fear. That was when she noticed the beam of light sneaking out from below the door. The light was on.

She blinked, trying to recall if she had switched it off. She was quite sure she had. And nobody else went in there, so no one would switch it on. She cleared her mind, trying to think practically and unemotionally. She needed to switch off the light.

Slowly, hesitantly, she walked to the door, peering at the light underneath. The light flickered, and a shadow seemed to move before it. She stopped, her heart hammering, her breath coming in hard. She decided to get it over with quickly. She grabbed the knob, turned it, and pushed. It didn’t move. Brief confusion and then realization swept through her features. The door was locked. How come?

She reached for the key on the chain around her neck, and inserted it into the lock. This time the door yielded, and she pushed it open. A cold breeze hit her face, and she saw that the window was open, a few leaves scattered on the floor beside it. The bedside lamp was on, and flickering. Perhaps they were having voltage issues. But the lights in the grounds were visible from the window, and they shone steadily. Weak kneed at the prospect of finally walking back into the room after so many days, but irrationally determined to switch off the light, she crossed the threshold and rushed to the bed side. She looked behind the lamp, searching for the light switch on the wall, and noticed the plug lying on the floor. She backed away quickly, not comprehending what she witnessed. Her back hit the window sill and she turned, looking at the lifeless tree outside, it’s branches reaching out like fingers. So cliché, she chided herself, but couldn’t help a shiver from dancing down her spine. She grabbed the window handle and pulled down, trying to close it. It seemed stuck, and she put more strength into it. By the time the window finally yielded, her breath was short, and as she finally slid the window completely shut, she heard a whisper in her ear.

“Don’t.”

She turned and stared around the room, looking for any rational source of the sound. “Please, don’t,” she whispered pleadingly at no one in particular, her voice cracking. You’re getting paranoid she told herself You didn’t hear anything. She looked at the lamp again, not spying behind it, too afraid to check again.

She heard something slide, and looked at her dressing table. Her large metal jewellery box was the only thing that hadn’t moved since the activity had begun. It was very heavy, made of dull silver and shaped like a trunk. The top and sides were intricately designed with flowers and elephants. Aarav had gifted it to her on her birthday a few years ago. Everything inside, all the necklaces, earrings and other jewels, were also gifts from him. The familiar sight calmed her somewhat. She was reaching towards it, slipping into a memory, when it slid forward slightly, and Ritika froze. She looked at it more closely, trying to decide if she had actually seen it move. She saw the dust tracks behind it and realised that it meant that it had. She wished fervently that it would stay still, that some part of her past would remain sacred, remain untouched by this strange malice. Nevertheless, she backed away slowly. With a start, it started sliding forward along the table again, steadily and continuously now. It reached the edge and tipped over, falling heavily to the ground and spilling it’s contents all over the floor.

“Sorry,” said a regret-less voice.

She looked around wildly, trying to find the person responsible for the movements, the voices. Fear was making her lose her grip on herself, and she desperately fought but failed to stop herself from losing her capacity to think.

“Stop it!” she screamed, “Stop!” She bent to the floor, grabbed whatever items came in her hand, and threw them at the lamp, then at the window. The window broke, and the sound of glass shattering echoed around her. She backed out of the room slowly, and tripped over a perfume bottle at the door. Aarav’s perfume bottle lay shattered on the ground, his smell enveloping her. She realised slowly that this was the reason for the fragrance she had noticed in the hall outside. She sat staring at it a minute, and then at the upturned jewellery box. She had never noticed that it had a smooth black bottom. A hair pin stuck to it. She was reaching towards it slowly, when she felt arms behind her trying to pull her to her feet. She resisted a second, a scream forming in her throat, terror filling her heart. But the hands were gentle and the voice familiar and so she let them guide her.

She stood shakily and turned around to see the worried face of her sister. Grief and relief, two totally opposite emotions, whirled around in her head. She grabbed her sister in a tight embrace and cried. They stood there for a minute, and then Anjana slowly pulled Ritika away from her.

She accessed her sister from a distance, noticing the disheveled hair, the dark circles, the tears streaking down her face, Aarav’s perfume all over her clothes.

“Oh, Ritika,” she finally sighed.

“See,” Ritika replied urgently, “I told you.”

Anjana nodded and pulled Ritika gently into a hug.

“Can I sleep with you?” asked Ritika.

Anjana looked at her older sister. She had never imagined Ritika would ever say that to her. But this was life. She smiled sadly and nodded.