My flat was on the second floor of an old 10-storey
building. I am 16 years old now. Back when I was really young, my building was
quite okay. But then it started to get infested with cockroaches, the pipes
leaked, the paint started wearing off and there was this dampness in every room
and I don’t know why. My mom has been urging my dad to move out to a better
place. Poor dad, he’s been waiting for his promotion for the past two years.
“Soon things will change”, would always be his optimistic reply to my mom’s
constant nagging. I didn't really mind. Half the time, I was in school, then tuition and then by the time I came home, I’d be dead tired. I would have
dinner and go straight to bed. I was even getting used to the cockroaches.
Initially I used to swat them with my slippers, as days passed I began to shove
them away from me only to find them returning 5 minutes later.
My building had two lifts in the lobby and a staircase. The
stairs don’t have a single bulb lit in them and they are never used by anyone. I've never been to the terrace or any floor higher than the 2nd for
quite a long time. There is a reason for this.
When I was 6 years old, I wandered off from the lobby and
entered a vacant lift. I pressed 2, but the lift did not stop at two, it went straight
to 10 and opened. I stepped out for a moment. If my parents had found out I had
gone all the way up without an adult, I’d get nice spankings. I was just
standing there on the corridor, when an old woman opened her main door and came
out. She wore an apron and seemed normal to me. She walked towards me and
smiled. Pinching my cheeks, she asked for my name. I gladly gave it. She
invited me in to her house and told me she had just finished baking a banana
cake. And I could really smell banana from her house, like those banana bubble
gums. It was a strong smell and it filled my nose. I told her I should be going
back to my mom, she refused to let me go and shoved me into her house and
locked the door. “I will take you to mommy, try my banana cake small boy.” The
house had no furniture and that seemed strange. But this smell of banana was
overwhelming and I was starting to feel sick.
What happened after changed my life. The woman removed her
apron, threw it on the floor. I was facing her back ready to follow her into
the kitchen. She turned back, her face expressing anger, eyes fiery red and
from nowhere she seemed to have a thousand wrinkles on her face. She caught me
by my neck and tightened her grip. “How many times have I told you, how many
times?” she was screaming at me. “You won’t let me rest huh? You won’t let an
old lady sleep huh?” I was gasping for breath and tears started rolling down my
cheeks. “You need to be punished, you young disrespectful brat.” I fainted.
That was my first blackout ever.
When I woke up, mom and dad were standing next to me. I was
in a hospital. A huge but scary teddy bear holding a heart was sitting next to
me. Mom was in tears and dad was consoling her. I felt fine until mom saw me
and kissed me all over my face.
Years passed and I almost forgot about my childhood
incident. A teenager has other issues to worry about. But I made sure I never
visited the 10th floor again. I never found out what happened the
other day. Life went on.
Then it all came back. It was a Sunday evening and I was
returning after a date with my girlfriend. I pushed the call button and waited
thinking about my first kiss. The lift opened, I stepped in and pushed 2. I was
smiling and I was in love. Things changed so quickly. The lift didn't stop at
2. I realized this when a something in me went ‘RED ALERT MODE’. It was taking
too long for the lift to reach 2nd floor. When I looked up, it was
4, then 5 and I kept pressing 2, then ‘STOP’ button, nothing happened.
6…
7…
I pressed the Emergency bell, nothing at all. My adrenaline
kicked in and so did some sense. I pressed 9.
8…
The 9th floor button was lit. I was praying. “Oh
please stop at 9, stop at 9.”
9…
Didn't stop,
10 and then a ping sound.
I was sweating and scared to death. All my childhood
memories of the event came back. The corridor had no lights. Not a single one
and it was pitch black. I pressed 2. Kept pushing the button, the damned lift
doors would not close. Looked like the lift broke down. The doors were wide
open as if asking me to step out.
Then I heard a door open. And the corridor filled with a
familiar smell. Banana. My heart was thumping hard. I knew it was a matter of
seconds before I had to see what I didn't want to see.
I got an idea, when you are in danger, your brain works at
super sonic speed. The staircase door was just next to the lift, all I had to
do was get out and turn right and head straight for the stair doors.
I had no time to think anymore, by impulse, I stepped out
and as I was about to open the stair doors hoping it would be unlocked, I got a
glimpse of a shadowy figure approaching. Even in the dark, I knew exactly what
it was. The banana smell was even stronger now.
I pushed open the stair doors, more darkness. But I ran, ran
all the way down. Sprinting the stairs hoping I wouldn't crash down fracturing
a leg. I took several flight of stairs at once. I ran till I was gasping for
breath. I had run all the way to ground floor in a matter of minutes. Did not
realize I had passed the second floor.
I was so relieved to see light, to see people staring at me
with a concerned look. I had no balls to take the lift to my floor again. I was
panting and no words came out. Took a
few breaths. Struggling for words, I told the watchman who looked pale now to
get my dad from the house.
In two minutes both dad and mom were down looking severely
upset and shocked. They were asking me what was wrong. I was in tears now,
“Please, just take me home.. take me home.” A crowd had gathered by now.
This time I was accompanied by my parents and the watchman
who had no idea what was going on? Once at home, I gulped down a bottle of
water. My mom was in tears now and dad was demanding an explanation. In my
head, I was thinking no one would believe what I had to say. I kept quiet. I
told them I was feeling fine now and wanted to rest. “I just got scared, I will
speak tomorrow. I need to sleep.” Dad was not convinced, “Did you have a fight?
Did anyone get hurt? Tell me, what happened?” I assured him everything was fine
now, “I need to rest, please, I need privacy.” Saying this, I went to my room
and locked from the inside. I heard a lot of murmuring outside.
I went to bed and fell asleep. The next morning at breakfast
I told them what happened. Both mom and dad were just staring at me the whole
time. Never said a single word. I was dreading they would now take me to a
psychiatrist. I didn't go to school that day. I didn't step out of my house. In
the evening when dad came home, he told us we were shifting to a new house in
two days.
I never boarded the lift alone. Even while moving my stuff.
My new house is a villa. No lifts. Just two floors. A few months later I
overheard a conversation between mom and dad. “The old hag had died the night
when we found him unconscious”, said dad. “I don’t want to talk about it, our
son had nothing to do with her death”, mom was sulking. “He may have discovered
the body, that’s why he fainted. He’s just scared. This is all past tense now.
Don’t ever let him know.” My dad replied, “Like I have any desire to tell him,
why would I traumatize him. It’s all over now.”
I didn't sleep for a few nights. The last I heard about the
building was when my dad informed it had been torn down. “Rest in Peace,
Bitch.” That’s all I thought of.
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