I never knew I had the courage to do this..Write about something that haunts me..This was a brush with the unknown..Something that made believe not to screw around with the forces of the other world and that some places are not meant to be visited or even remotely tried to be found again..Somethings better lay at peace..Somethings better be..This story involves a few friends..They do not want to be named..They shall not be..They were there with me and this is our secret..So be it..

Youth..The times when life’s carefree and there are no worries..No fear of the future, nothing at all..We were wandering free birds, newly gotten our mean machines, read our bikes and being the youngsters we were, we would head out on Saturday Nights to explore places. In and around the city, roaming like free birds in the name of nightouts we had gone and explored a various number of places..Various eating joints, Various places where we could sit for hours ordering just a cutting cup of tea and laugh and cry without being hushed about and made to leave our table..But we also did discover a haunted place..A place and an experience that still haunt us..will haunt us..Forever..

We rode out into the night..The six of us, three bikes and a night full of adventure waiting for us. We took to the highway, the wind in our hair, the laughter on the road resounding around us and not looking back one bit..I wish we had, Because if we did, we would have made a choice and then it wouldn’t have happened. And I would not have been writing this.

We sped along, getting off the highway on to a road leading somewhere, none of us were afraid, just enjoying the ride in the night and each other’s company. We weren’t looking where we were going and where we were headed..Just following the road.Maybe the company of your friends does you that. Having them around you gives you a sense of uplifting and knowing that having them around you. Maybe that’s why we survived.That’s why we got out of that place..

Like I said we rode off the highway, onto a dusty track, my friend leading the way saying he knew of a place to go and sit around. We followed. We always did. Anyone would do. But what he didn’t say that he’d lost the way..He didn’t say he didn’t know where we were going..And we didn’t question him..

The night and it’s surroundings got better of us, the talks died down, and the howling winds made our arms tug deeper into ourselves. The lights and the civilizations were left far behind as our headlights pierced the pitch black darkness that surrounded and engulfed us. The fears growing when around the path I saw that there were hardly any plantations growing, half cut crops swayed in the breeze, the moonlight glowing upon them.

The figures of a few houses drew up close as we headed to the end of the road. We got off, and at that exact moment, a cry rain through the air, the cry if a cat, somewhere we could not see. My heart skipped a beat and my friends nervously stared at each other. We didn’t what to do for sometime, rooted to the spot. The darkness engulfed us again. The moonlight not helping.

Finally we did get ourselves under control, and regrouped. I looked around, seeing three huts and a single brick house, the only one with a door, and it was shut. One of my friends realized that it was unnaturally quiet for a dwelling place. He was right. There was a pin drop silence except for the rustling of the leaves. We should have left then, but the young blood, the urge that anything can be taken on drove us to go and look inside the houses. Only later did we realize that somethings in this world cannot be taken on. Nor are they meant to be.

We split into groups of two. Four of us headed to the huts and two headed to the brick house. The huts were to the right and the brick house to the left and our bikes behind us. I walked to the hut, peeking around, trying to look inside and trying to figure out what was on the inside, when I realized the hut had no door. I beckoned to my friend and went inside. He was right behind me, and what we say..froze our blood.

Inside the hut, were clothes strewn around, just thrown there, the utensils half overturned and left. It looked as if someone had left the place in a hurry, and in the moonlight I saw a rag doll, looking straight at the door.

I half expected it to get up and walk towards us or offer us a sinister smile but it didn’t. My friend looked around and we both were scared, our heart beats rising and we went out and were headed to our bikes where my other two friends stood, beckoning them to start the bikes and get out of that place. We didn’t notice the other two friends who were at the brick house, and we turned around when one of them let out a cry.

I ran, as fast as I could and say one of them had fallen down, and the other one was trying to get him to stand up and move. I rushed into help, the man on the floor pointing towards something. And then I saw. The red hand print. The human hand print on the half closed door of the house. The red, the blood, still flowing down on the door..Running, still fresh..and all I could do was freeze.

An arm jerked me to my senses and we ran to our bikes and quickly powered them up and sped off. Just drove, nobody talked, still shivering, still reliving the moment. And I looked back as we sped away, and I know I say a black cat, it’s eyes shining and just staring at us.

Epilogue:

We went back to our friend’s and just sat there till wee hours in the morning. We’v never talked about it and that certainly brought an end to our late night outings. I did talk to him, the friend who fell down and pointed that hand print out of me. This is what he said had happened.

” You guys went to the huts and I and T were still skeptical about going in. He insisted that we should get a look. I went first, he was behind me. The door was a two door and both had to be shut to be locked. Both of them were open. I swung the right side in and T was behind me. We stepped inside and just then, the left side swung shut, itself. T rushed first opening the door and just stood there, horrified. I ran into him and we both fell, he got up and then I saw that. The hand print. Blood all over, and I swear it was fresh blood, because it was still oozing down from the print. I was stunned and T was trying to get me up. I don’t know what would have happened if we were a little inside but I don’t know how the door was shut by itself”

I don’t know myself how the print was on the outer part of the door, but whatever it was, it was sign.. A sign that somethings in life shouldn’t be messed around with. Mortals are not meant to.

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