The Day Before
The big old house on the extreme left from ours was the last one on our street. It seemed like it had been standing there in silence forever. Ever since we moved to Brick Bend, and that was five years ago, I have no recollection of ever seeing anyone enter or leave the house. It had just stood there with moss growing on its dark facade. It was a bleak brown wooden house that perhaps had too many staircases leading to too many rooms.
However the rest of us recovered the blatant shock in which we had fled from the scene three times in a row. I had already been grounded thrice and now anticipated a bigger catastrophe if I tried to break into the house once again.
Yesterday was different. For the first time in my life I saw a vehicle parked in front of the house. A gigantic black SUV. It stood stagnant just like the house and it carried an air of reckless existence, of being driven on rough grounds, on mountainous roads, muddy roads as well as concrete tar roads. The wheels looked worn and overused. The pitch black windows that were rolled up tightly reflected my face as one carrying a contorted expression. Tis’ perhaps the convex shape of the windows that made me look so, I dismissed. Unexpectedly as it was, the light on the window on the right corner of the house looking down towards the street, snapped on, which made me tear my eyes away from the vehicle and look upwards. I jolted as I saw a silhouette of a figure standing by the window, shaded against the light that illuminated the room. It was peering down at me. I was dead certain, for I thought I saw a pair of eyes glow a certain iridescent orange. Nausea gripped my throat as I was held captive by the bizarre stare. Unable to breathe and unable to blink I stood petrified.
Then, the very next day I was abducted from the very same road I had walked and cycled thousands of times, with and without my peers. This morning, the sinister memory from the night before, oddly seemed to have lost its substance. Or perhaps I had put a lid on to it, blocking the entire horror of it. I knew this road like the back of my hand because it was one that I used most. I could walk home from the library with my eyes closed. Yesterday was just like any other day for me, leaving home precisely at 7 a.m. Heading straight for the library where I had to complete the final paragraphs of an essay. With a copy of a Complete Works of Edgar Allan Poe neatly tucked under my arm, I walked back straying my cycle along, lost in my own reverie. I hadn’t had time to call any of my friends and enlighten them on the latest progress on house no. 9 on Brick Bend. I was saving that for the evening.
On the spur of the moment, someone jumped at me from behind. I never got a chance to turn around and get a glimpse of my assailant, as a pair of gloved hands closed on my mouth and nose with some kind of a swab the pungent smell of which assaulted my nostrils within a second giving birth to havoc within me. Inside my head, a lamp glowered brightly at first and then faded into darkness. The last thing I remember is my limbs growing as heavy as branches of a felled tree.
To be continued….