Hi, this is Nilu Bhardwaj. I am originally from a small town in Maharashtra, India. My father used to be a government official who always rode his old scooter, no matter how bad it got and how much everyone—except my mother—insisted he replace it. My mother was a teacher who loved gardening. My younger sister is studying in college to become a doctor—to help me, she says. And I am also a government official, just like my father.
I spent my whole life in our government-provided residence and just recently moved into a really great home in Pune, where my retired Baba wished to spend the rest of his life with his family. It has been great since we moved here.
I have always been the introverted and anti-social type. I am 29 years old and unmarried. One day, during a family gathering, in a fit of emotions, I declared that I would never get married. My Baba just hugged me and said, "If that's what you want." Since then, marriage has been out of the discussion.
Something really unique about my life is that where we used to live, there was a cemetery right behind our house. And recently, I have recovered some lost memories—memories of seeing the ghosts of that cemetery. I can see them again now, and I have no idea how to proceed with my life from here.
It all started the day when a precious necklace given to me by my mother's suddenly went missing. As soon as I told her, she started crying and frantically searching the entire house, sobbing and muttering under her breath. I couldn't bear seeing her like that, so I joined her.
When she was about to search the garden, I asked if I could help, but she suddenly screamed at me to stay in my room and not take a step outside. I thought she was overreacting, but I agreed. Through my window, I watched helplessly as my mother searched the garden. Then, out of nowhere, as if possessed by something, she started destroying the garden itself. She uprooted plants, dug through the soil, and even crushed her precious roses in her desperation.
I started screaming at her to stop, but she wasn't listening. Panicked, I ran to my door—only to find it locked from the outside.
I called my father, who was out with his friends, and told him what was happening. He promised he'd be home soon and hung up. Then I called my sister, telling her that I was going to climb out the window to help. But she shouted at me to stay put. Her reaction pissed me off, and I angrily hung up on her.
Anxious and scared, my eyes fell on my bedsheets. An idea struck me—I tied them together and secured them to the foot of my bed before throwing them out of my second-floor window.
I started climbing down. But as I did, a shadow loomed over me.
Suddenly, I felt something brush against my head and shoulders—something like hair. My whole body froze instantly. A foul, rotting stench filled my lungs. My skin broke out in cold sweat as fear crawled into my bones.
I looked up.
My dead Nani was looming over me, her face half-rotten.
She spoke in a grotesque, surreal voice:
"Nilu, meri bachi."
Her cold, decayed hands cupped my cheeks. A terror I had never known before exploded inside me.
I screamed.
"Aai! Aai!?"
My mother, now aware of me dangling from the window, started screaming hysterically, calling my name. I flailed, trying to escape, but the creature's grip only tightened.
"Where are you going, bachchu? Come with your dear Nani," she whispered, pulling me closer.
I heard my father's scooter screech to a stop outside.
"Baba!" I shouted at the top of my lungs.
He practically threw his scooter on the ground and ran towards the door.
My mother fell to her knees, praying hysterically.
The thing that looked like my Nani suddenly opened its mouth unnaturally wide, wide enough for a face to fit inside. Then she began to breathe in.
As she did, I felt my body growing weaker—as if she was pulling the life out of me.
My father slammed the door open and ran to me. He reached for me, but the creature kicked him in the gut, sending him flying across the room.
I was slipping away.
Then, all of a sudden, I saw it.
A rudraksha necklace dangled from the creature's neck.
The moment the necklace touched her skin, she screamed in agony, digging her claws into my arms.
That was when my father grabbed me by my clothes and pulled me up into my room.
Gasping for breath, shaking violently, I tried to make sense of what had just happened.
My mother ran in and held me tightly in her arms. Her warmth steadied my breathing as she asked if I was okay.
I wanted to say I'm okay—but suddenly, the world went dark.
---
When I woke up, I was in a hospital room.
I tried to move my hand to reach for water, but I couldn't.
In a low voice, I whispered, "Water."
The nurse, hearing me, ran out of the room to call the doctor. Then she returned, helping me sit up and drink.
Moments later, my family burst into the room along with the doctor.
I was told that I had been unconscious for three days.
The doctor asked if I was feeling strange.
"I feel very weak," I said.
He nodded and told me he needed to run some tests. Then he left.
My family surrounded me, their faces streaked with dried tears. My mother looked like a mess—more exhausted and fragile than I had ever seen her.
Then, suddenly, she reached for my neck, kissed the rudraksha necklace that was back on me, and whispered prayers of gratitude.
She then asked me something strange.
"Can you see something else in the room? Something that shouldn't be here?"
She was crying again. My sister was watching me intently.
I hesitated.
Then I shook my head.
No.
I lied.
For the first time in my life, I lied.
As my family hugged me in relief, I saw it.
The same creature.
Still in the form of my Nani.
Standing in the corner of the room, grinning from ear to ear, her eyes wide open.
I stared at it, my heart hammering.
And I thought to myself—
What will become of me now?