remember that tree everyone said was haunted?

Untitled Part 1

There was a tree in a corner of the school field that everyone knew was haunted.

They said strange things happened near it--sightings, creepy noises, people disappearing. Of course, nobody actually experienced any of this for themselves, since the tree had been fenced off right after the school was built, years and years ago. But that didn't stop people from talking.

And everyone in school talked about it, because they had heard it from everyone else. Sometimes I believed it--because some of my friends believed it--and sometimes I was sceptical--because some of my friends were sceptical--but it didn't really make a difference. The tree was there, and sometimes, they said, it whispered to you.

We all knew not to think about the tree--it can hear you!--or get too close--it will possess you! Even looking at the tree was a big no-no, because, they said, the tree could see you watching, and wouldn't hesitate to get you to come closer, within its reach. Nobody knew why, or how, but they all said: better safe than sorry.

So we warned each other from the other side of the field, a safe distance away. The years passed, and rumours continued to float around the school. Nothing ever happened.

Until one day, of course, something did.

--

They said it was the security guard who heard it, during one of his late night patrols: shrill, high-pitched laughter.

Like any sane person, his instinct was to bolt in the other direction.

He turned away, remembered his job, and turned around again. Slow, tentative steps brought him past the empty school canteen, towards the big green field that was the school's pride and joy. Throughout his slow march there had been no other inhuman sounds, and so by the time he came to stand by the field barrier, he had regained some measure of calm, and, now confident that he had only misheard, was entirely prepared to write off the whole incident as nothing extraordinary.

He cast his gaze over the field, scanning it for anything out of the ordinary. Then--

It must have been an accident; everyone meant everyone, so he must have known better than to go looking for trouble on an already-spooky night, but there his gaze went, as if pulled by a magnet.

He looked at the tree.

The tree looked back.

--

"--should have run," someone muttered, as I walked past, jogging in the direction of my classroom.

"He was doing his job," Sara said to her friend, as I heaved my giant backpack off my shoulder and onto my seat. The chair creaked under its weight.

"Yeah, and look where that got him."

"You're a jerk."

"What are you guys talking about?" I asked, coming up to their table.

"It's Pak Syed," Sara told me. "He got possessed by the...." here she trailed off, and jerked her head once towards the field.

I nodded hastily, and the three of us stood around in a moment of silence as we raced to fill our thoughts with something else. Arun shuddered, and crossed his arms. "Like I said, he should have run."

"Is Pak Syed--is he...okay?" I asked.

"They said he's really sick," Sara told me.

"That's terrible."

"Shouldn't have gotten so close," Arun muttered, just before the bell for morning assembly rang, cutting off any further conversation, as they scrambled out of the classroom.