The Invitation

 On many nights I like to admire my curly, shiny hair, before going to bed. I never liked combing my hair as my pretty, coils would get separated. But my mother always insisted that I should comb them every night. To which I replied, annoyingly, “Haan, Haan! I’ll comb them before sleeping, for sure!” We had adopted a pet cat named Moonlight. I was assigned the duty of cleaning her litter box. Her litter scoop was kept outside on the balcony. One night when I went out to bring her scoop, I saw a  golden ring there. I thought it was mine, I must’ve dropped it. I stepped forward and picked it up. The moment I picked it up I felt an extra weight on me, something forced itself upon me. I was confused and disoriented. I picked myself up, rigorously. I went inside and immediately the weight was lifted. As if I had just become conscience. The rest of the night passed away peacefully. 

The next day my cat was running away from me. Whenever she was making eye contact, she would run away as if she had seen a ghost. I was running behind her, offering her treats and doing everything which attracted her, but she never came near me. This kept happening for about a week. Then one night, around 3:33 AM, I heard aggressive meows and hissing. At first, I was going to get up and see what was happening, was my cat, okay but then the meows got louder and louder and louder. They were ear-piercing. I covered both of my ears with the warm, feather quilt in the numbing night. I was reading out every prayer I knew, I was naming every God I knew, and, I was praying for my life. I had never been this scared…

All of this continued till 5:45 AM and I woke at 6:00 AM. I had not slept a bit. I woke up when my aunt called out my name, “Samara!! Wake up!! You’re going to be late for school! I’m warning you, I’ll not drop you.” “Ok! Ok!” I said, drowsy and heavy-eyed. I threw the quilt and got up. I felt that extra weight, again. At first, I thought I was feeling it because of my sleepless night but I was also feeling anxious. Ignoring the fact that I was not feeling like I usually do I went for a bath. I have a habit of seeing the mirror before bathing or while bathroom singing. So, I looked in the mirror and saw something weird happening to my face. It started getting red, then redder, then redder and my skin started tearing apart. I was screaming through the excruciating pain. It was like someone was tearing me apart. As if someone has been living inside me and was now….. BORED. The pain was over after a few minutes. When it was finally over I saw myself in the mirror again, touched my face and…..THUD!! I was unconscious. I felt such a weakness that I skipped school that day. 

I had a high fever and my limbs were not working. I was resting, my eyes were shut and someone whispered in my ear, “Hi! Did you like my golden ring?! HAHAHA!” I was shaken. I started screaming and mother came running, worried. She didn’t ask what happened after seeing my white-as-a-sheet face. I couldn’t rest anymore because of the trauma I was going through.

 Weeks passed, and I didn’t get better. My maa took me to every doctor but my disease was chronic. My neighbours were extremely religious people and they recognised my disease as a demonic deed. My mother was either not believing them or was in denial, I don’t know but she was tired and distressed. She called a priest from the nearby church and told him all the incidents. I couldn’t speak as I didn’t have the energy. I was frail, pale and looked boney. The priest cleansed our house and gave me the holy cross to wear. I didn’t say anything I just blinked vigorously. At night, the cross started burning my skin. I couldn’t express my pain, I was so eaten from the inside. I had given up. I let it burn my skin. My mother woke up, the next morning and saw my burnt skin, looking exactly like a cross. She immediately understood that something demonic was feeding on my innocent soul. She called the priest and he started performing the ritual of exorcism. I started whimpering as the devil inside me was being tortured. At last, she came out of me. She was a little girl. The priest asked her, “What is your name? Why are you torturing this little girl? Why???” She answered, in a childish manner, “My name is Amara. I am not torturing her!! She invited me in!” The priest and my mother, both were confused. She continued, “I dropped my favourite golden ring the other day and she stole it! I was enraged! So, I thought someone was finally inviting me in. HAHAHA!” The priest retorted, “Oh! Okay! But I need you to leave her alone. She’s just a little girl like you, Amara.” “I’ll not leave her! She invited me! Now it's my wish if I want to leave.” said Amara. “Please! It's a request.” The priest begged. “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” The moment she said this everything started flying in the air, I felt harrowing pain and the window panes shattered. Then the priest came in with a new argument, “OK!! Just leave her body, you can live in the house. Please, STOP!” She immediately stopped. She agreed and left my body. Phew! I am alive because of that priest. 

My mother and I moved to many houses but she never cleared our path. I did some research and read that Amara had a mental problem. Her body grew but her mind remained five years old. She was forty years old when, just for fun, she threw herself off the balcony of the same house we had been living in. Since she had been wandering around.  

My mother died when I was thirty years old. Till then, her sighting had stopped. Her tricks were not seen and she was serene. I thought she was finally gone. But then, one day, I was sleeping and I heard the same whisper, “Hi! Did you like my golden ring?! HAHAHA!” She is attached to my body. She will not leave me till I die. In my coffin, her spirit will be buried with me….