Ghost Story: The Child Who Died
by Sharayu
In the place where I live, there is a cemetery just down the road. Everyday when I walked to school I saw the mourning families grieving over a lost friend or relative.
On one such day, the 6th of February, 2009 when I was passing through the graveyard I saw a terrible, heartbreaking, astonishing sight which left me disturbed the whole day. I couldn't concentrate on my studies nor could I pay attention to any other things. As I walked down the road I felt a sudden negative feeling that I should immediately run away from this place. To flee away. To never come back. It was really weird as at the same time I felt something totally contradictory. A strange kind of sensation pulsed through me. One that said that I had some deep connection rooted here, with something or . . . Someone. An aura of sympathy was always around me. Like someone was waiting for me. . .
For a few days I could not make head or tail of what was happening with me. Strange incidents started taking place with me. Sometimes I heard loud screaming noises from my window. And, most importantly whenever I used to go out of the house I would have this sense that someone was following me. Guiding me. Protecting me. This happenings started scaring the hell out of me.
After about a year later, I guess it was 6th of February, 2010 I decided to go for a walk at night. The weather was beautiful, warm and windy sort of. I told my mom that I would be back within an hour. As I started down the steps, I felt that familiar feeling that someone was following me. Before this many a times, I had turned to see who but no one was ever there. But today it was vaguely different. I heard a whisper that oddly sounded like, "Never look back". Of course the whisper only compelled me to do the exactly opposite thing. Out of curiosity I slowly turned behind and was shocked to see a child of hardly nine years glaring at me with those deep eyes. He had a expression which was gravely mature for such a small child. It was very difficult to interpret the look on his angelic face. He was smiling in a murderously kind way. He looked like he wanted to say, "I miss you. Come back to me. Come back to me now". It was hard to look away from those searching eyes. But when I was finally able to look away my eyes fell on his feet.
To my extreme horror, his body was dangling at least two feet above the ground. With my eyes wide open in fear I looked back at the child's face. His smile had grown wider and it represented deep rooted happiness. As if the fact that he was not human did not matter to him anymore. His silent lips mouthed the words, "Come soon." without another word he glided through the dark alley. . . Never looking back.
Whenever I remember the dreadful sight of a father carrying his dead son in a locked coffin I think that the dates may not be a mere coincidence.