Spook Week #1 | Monday Anxiety

Hello, bookworms. This week, I'm trying something new that I call "Spook Week." What it means is basically that each day of this week, I write a ghost story here on this blog. The story will either be true, meaning it's something that I or someone I know have gone through, or it's false, meaning I made it up. In my Instagram story (senseandbookibility) I'll do a poll each day, asking if the story of that day is true or false. Then, at the end of the day, I will let you know if the story was, in fact, true or false. Lastly, I just want to say that this is just something I do for fun, both because I love ghost stories and because I love the engagement in the bookish community and I hope that this is something that you will enjoy as well.

Let the first spooky story begin...

Monday Anxiety

It was a very ordinary Monday afternoon. I was on my way home from school, running from the bus in the rain with my backpack and bags of Christmas presents. I fumbled for my keys and when I finally found them, I unlocked the front door. Looking into the messy living room, I took off my shoes and shouted; "Hello?!" to hear if anyone was home. It was only 12:30 PM. I used to finish school early on Mondays and be the first one home. However, I heard a soft voice answer my call with a "hello". I was surprised. Is Simon already home? That's unusual, I thought. Then I shrugged my shoulders, let go of the backpack and the bags on the floor. Everything went according to my basic routine, hang the jacket, put the shoes on the shelf and make a sandwich because the food in school was.. questionable.

Anyway, I was now heading for my room. I sat for about an hour at my desk and wrote on my English essay. I heard some sounds coming from my brother's room from time to time. I took a break, wrote a little more, took another break. The noise continued. It was quite normal with the sounds because my brother usually plays computer games and he hits the keys as well as kicks on the table in frustration when something goes wrong or he loses. I called to him, "Can you please be a bit quieter? I'm trying to study here!" and hoped that it would be heard through the wall. The miserable throbbing ended hastily. "Is everything okay?" I asked. Dead silence filled the house. I assumed he didn't hear me. He used to sit with headphones on.

I turned to stare at the computer screen again and knocked a little at the table at the same time, humming to a song stuck in my head. Then I heard it. Someone knocked back, on the other side of the wall, and exactly as many knocks as I did. I even tried by knocking 5 times loud against the wall. 5 knocks were heard shortly afterward on the other side of the wall. Now he's messing around with me, I thought. What is he doing?

I tried knocking again. The same amount of knocks could be heard from my brother's room. I sighed and continued with my essay. The time was now almost 14:00 PM, which is when Simon usually gets home. And exactly as every Monday, the door opened downstairs, keys scrambled, a bag was dropped on the ground and I could hear a wondering "hello?", asking if anyone was at home. It was Simon...

Photo by Ehud Neuhaus on Unsplash