Unwelcome

The cold wind whistled through the trees outside. Something in the neighbour’s yard – a branch or a shutter – was banging against the side of the house next door. Leaves skittered across the empty streets. The full moon hung in the sky, a hazy mist surrounded it and gauzy dark clouds drifted past.

Pulling the fuzzy blanket across her legs, and tucking her feet underneath herself, she settled back into her couch groove. With the kids tucked into bed, and a hot cuppa in hand, she felt the stress of the day melting away as she blew gently on the top of her tea. The steam rose into the air like ghostly apparitions in the dimly lit room.

A thump in the dark hallway captured her attention. Peering into the darkness, she waited for the tiny face of a wayward child, looking for a glass of water, or assistance in putting their feet back into bed, to appear.

No one appeared.

“Is someone there?” she called out.

There was no answer. Just another muffled thump, like a sneaky footstep on the stairs.

Sighing, she set her cup down on the table and stood up. Setting her face in a stern “Go back to bed” expression, she strode across the room and stepped into the dark hallway.

The darkness was almost palpable. Something was lingering in the dark. Watching… waiting….needing.

“Wh-who’s there? Thing Two? Thing One?”

Stopping short, she spied a small childlike figure standing just outside the door. She was a tiny little thing. She was dressed all in white, wearing what appeared to be a long nightgown. Her face was pressed against the wall, as though she was playing a game of hide and seek. Ribbons of gold flashed and sparkled along the length of her body, like an aura.

“Oh! There you are!” she stated aloud, in surprise. All thoughts of a child out of bed left her mind. She felt an overwhelming sense of relief at finally meeting the white apparition that spent its evenings running up and down the hallway. Without another thought, she walked past the little girl and went upstairs to check on her sleeping children.

She felt as though she was in a dreamlike state. There was no fear, only a sense of peacefulness.

When she came back downstairs, the little girl was gone. The house was quiet and her thoughts returned to her cup of tea waiting for her in the living room.

She gave the girl not another thought and settled into her relaxing evening once again. She didn’t even think to mention it to Hubs when he returned home.

***

Pop!

The suction cup holding the tea towel holder onto the cupboard door suddenly popped off and the towel fell to the floor. Sighing deeply, she cursed her attempt at frugality by buying the bloody thing at the ¥100 shop. She dutifully wiped down the cupboard and replaced the towel holder.

Turning to the fridge, she heard another “POP!” and a towel holder fell to the floor. To her surprise, it was the other towel holder that had fallen. Vowing to never shop at the ¥100 shop ever again, she replaced it.

Having finished up the dishes, she turned off the lights to go to bed.

POP! POP!

Both towel holders fell to the floor again. “Ugh. They can bloody stay on the floor,” she muttered. As she closed the door to the living room, she paused. She could swear she had heard a childish giggle come from the kitchen.

She shook her head and hurried up the stairs to bed, trying to ignore the feeling that she was being followed by the darkness.

***

The stony silence of the car ride home was heavy. Her daughter, in a childish outburst, had uttered the words that can break a mother’s heart into pieces.

I hate you Mummy.

While knowing in her mind that it was a childish utterance, and was not a bit true, her tired and heavy heart felt the full brunt of that blow.

They silently piled out of the car and went into the house. Heading straight upstairs to her bedroom, she couldn’t bring herself to say a word, other than a very firm “Go to your room.” The angry sobs of her little girl reverberated through the closed bedroom door.

Slumped on the edge of the bed, shoulders lowered in defeat, she held back tears as she explained to her husband what had transpired.

Assuring her, he would get to the bottom of it and help resolve the issue, he headed into the kids’ bedroom.

With the sounds of an angry temper tantrum echoing through the house, Hubs was having a difficult time reigning in his own temper.

“Come on Bud,” she said quietly to her son, “Let’s see what we can throw together for dinner and I’ll help you get ready for a shower.”

Sensing accurately that an argument would not be in his best interest, the normally stubborn boy said “Okay, Mummy” and took her hand gently to go down the stairs.

Defiant screams echoed down the stairs behind them, they held hands as they walked into the waiting darkness.

No one had turned on the lights, because no one had been downstairs yet. The normally bright and alive living area, was pitch black and cold.

The silence, broken only by the raging fury upstairs, was heavy.

Moving further into the room, she tightened her grip on her son’s hand. Something felt wrong.

“Mummy? What’s that noise?”

The mechanical ticking of a timer counting down the minutes clicked softly in the darkness. Moving further into the darkness, a fiery orange glow inside the toaster oven broke the looming darkness in the far corner of the kitchen.

Ding!

“Did Daddy come downstairs earlier?” she asked quietly.

“No. He’s been upstairs the whole time since we came home,” her son responded.

Holding her son behind her protectively, she reached out a trembling hand to grasp the handle of the toaster oven. Flinching back in pain, she let go of the white hot handle. She sucked her burnt fingertips and grabbed a tea towel to open the oven door.

With the oven door open, smoke billowed into the air.

The oven was empty. Unplugging the oven from the outlet, she hurried her son out of the kitchen.

Calling for her husband, she grasped her son’s hand and fled back up the stairs.

The sobbing from the bedroom had eased, but she found her husband standing in the hallway looking very pale and shaken.

This gentle man, who rarely raised his voice and certainly had never struck the children, was trembling as he explained how he had felt an incredible rage well up inside and had had to leave the room to keep himself from losing his temper at their wee daughter.

“There‘s something in this house. There is something negative in this house and it’s affecting us all,” she stated bluntly. She relayed what had happened in the kitchen downstairs and confirmed that he had not put anything in the oven.

As they talked, the events of the week suddenly flooded back into her mind. The little girl playing hide and seek and her seemingly disassociated reaction to it. The towel holders popping off the cupboard door and the childish giggles. The tangible presence in the darkness, pushing against her as she moved through the house.

She grabbed her sage, lit a spirit repelling candle and began her cleansing ritual.

“Evil spirit leave us. Only those wishing for peaceful coexistence may remain. Evil spirit you are not welcome here. Bring peace and protection to all those who live here. Evil spirits are unwelcome here.”

The words of her incantation twisted through the tendrils of smoke from the sage as she purposefully went from room to room.

Knowing that spirits will cling to the person doing the cleanse, she strode down the stairs, and out the front door. Standing in the road in front of the house, she said aloud “Evil spirits begone. You are not welcome here!”

A sudden gust of cold wind blew her hair back and she shivered. The branches of the trees had not moved, in spite of the strength of the wind.

Everything was still. The neighbourhood was quiet. A peaceful sensation settled upon her. It was over.

For now.