My grandparents are loving and generous people and live in a house with a lovely garden. The sun shines bright on the flowers that my Nani has grown around the lush green lawn. It fills me with a warm feeling to see the birds nesting in the guava tree and the butterflies hovering above the colourful flowers.  

However, I dread the nights at their home. I visit my grandparents once a month and usually stay back for a couple of nights with my mother. The house creeps me out when it is dark. We have a small attic, which my Nani uses as a storehouse. Last month I decided to go look up the attic, hoping to find an old treasure of some value. The wooden boards of the spiral staircase creaked under my weight.

I had taken a flashlight that Nani kept on a small almirah in the living room. I switched on the bulb in the attic and started rummaging through the small trunks set in the front corner. I was startled by a rat and fell back in fear. At that moment, the bulb suddenly went off. I was terrified and switched on the torch. I was retracing my steps when in the dim halo of the flashlight, I saw the shadow of a monster that covered almost the whole of the sidewall. I turned around to see a spider the size of my palm walking toward me. I panicked and ran out of the space. The bulb came back on. I was glad it did.

I also dread the bathroom next to the living room. Its door is loose at the hinges. When somebody switches on the cooler in the living room, it swings open without warning. I get goosebumps when that happens. I have sometimes encountered a strange shadow lurking outside the bathroom window. But there was nothing when I looked outside. Only the guava tree, resting very still.

Then there is this strange sound of footsteps on the roof I can hear on some nights. There is no floor above us except the attic that covers one half of the house. But I am sure I have heard sounds of footsteps running. Sometimes, there is a scraping sound coming off the ceiling. It feels like someone is pushing one of the heavy boxes. I have checked the attic and the boxes are always in their place, rusty and jammed.

I feel Nani’s house has a mind of its own. And that is why I can never spend the night alone there.

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