Knock Knock

There was only one rule: don’t open the door.

I was freshly into my twenties and the little house on top of the hill was calling me. The big kitchen with the amazing counter space, the nice fenced in yard, and the beautiful wrap around porch were the main selling points for me. I recently came into money from a loss in the family and I had just the right amount for the asking price, lucky for me I was the only one who placed an offer! After signing all the proper paperwork, I met with the sellers at the home for the keys. As they showed me around, they made it VERY clear if I heard strange noises from the extra room in the basement, not to open the door.

Sadly, for them, a twenty-year-old girl rarely listens. I brushed it off as superstition on the seller’s part and went about moving into my brand-new home. I decided the basement area was perfect for my washer and dryer, so I set out fixing it up to be my laundry room. The basement gave off creepy vibes but of course I just figured it was because the home was still new to me.

A month after moving into my home, the knocking began. Subtle at first, but then it became manic almost. I would go down to the basement to find the source of this incessant knocking, but never had any luck. That is until Halloween night. On Halloween night I threw a hush monster bash for the neighborhood, and everyone heard the knocking that night.

BANG. BANG. KNOCK. KNOCK. Louder and louder the knocking grew and before long, all my guests were run off. I didn’t even get to properly introduce myself to anyone. Angerly, I stomped downstairs to the basement and shouted, “WHAT DO YOU WANT?” As I finished these words, I heard the knocking. I silently walked to the door in the basement that I was told never to open and I opened it.

I was shocked to find myself looking back at myself, as though in a mirror. It turns out, I never bought this home. I never moved in because I never left. My body was here in this home and my soul trapped in this basement, patiently waiting to be found.

I was the thing going bump in the night.