Possessed

Chapter 7: The Compulsion

I unlocked the front door of my house with the spare key I often kept with me at school and let myself in. Sounds of laughter floating in from the living room resonated around the house and reached my ears. I wondered who they belonged to.  My curiosity moved my feet towards the living room and I was greeted by the sight of two women in their mid-thirties, around my mom’s age, having tea with her.

They ceased their laughter upon me entering the room and turned to look at me instead.

“Aries, say hello to Mrs. Chenille and Ms. Clara,” my mom introduced, gesturing to the woman with curly auburn locks first, then at the one with straight raven black hair. “They live just down the street and around the corner.”

I looked at the two of them perched on our leather sofa and pronounced polite greetings. Ms. Clara hardly cracked a smile and I felt her cold, intense gaze on me, as if scrutinizing my every move. Strange. Mrs. Chenille, on the other hand, smiled at me, a little twinkle in her grayish blue eyes. She seemed to be the kinder of the two and I felt myself smiling and at ease with her.

After meeting my mom’s new acquaintances, I shuffled up the stairs to my room to change, grabbing an apple from the fruit basket on my way up.

I opened my book bag, which was resting on my table, and pulled out my Trigonometry homework. If there wasn’t any homework before, there sure was now.  I spread my homework on my bed and reluctantly got to work.

After about an hour of trying to concentrate on frustrating math problems, I decided to stretch my legs a bit and get myself something to eat. I walked out of my room, aiming for the stairs that led into the living room downstairs. I could no longer hear laughter. Maybe the ladies had already left.

I widened my eyes in surprise and shock as I found myself standing in front of my basement door. The door key had been left in its key lock. My skin prickled as I started to turn the key in its keyhole to unbolt the door. Why was I unlocking the basement door? It was sinister down there and I never liked going there unless absolutely necessary. I always avoided the place if I could help it. Yet here I was.

I willed myself to steer clear of my not-so-thrilling basement and instead move towards the stairs, but my next step alarmed me even further. It was as if my feet were moving of their own accord. I was fighting an internal battle, struggling to do as I wanted, but quite unsuccessfully so. I turned the knob of the door and stepped into the dark, damp basement that had a musty odor occupying its air. The place was dimly lit, its bulb almost giving out from the lack of power.

My feet progressed down the rackety metal staircase and towards the centre of the basement where an assortment of card boxes resided. I reached for the one on top that had ‘WEDDING’ written across its brown cover in blue marker. The box looked to be ages old, like no one had touched it in years. Which was probably right. I mean, who would have touched this stuff? This house had been vacant for over three years till we’d moved in.

I shifted through the contents of the cardboard box. What exactly was I looking for in here? My question was abruptly answered as I felt eagerness stir inside me when my hands came in contact with an old, small velvet square box. I opened it to find myself, a single piece of diamond delicately placed onto a gold ring set inside the folds. The diamond glistened even in the dark, despite its aging. This must have belonged to the last owner of the house. Though why anyone would leave something as invaluable as a wedding ring was beyond me.                

I snatched it up, stashed it into the pocket of the Capri pants that I was sporting and resumed my search. I soon came upon a crinkling, battered old photograph that had three people in it all grinning at the camera. I felt a wave of euphoria coursing through my veins. My family. Once upon a time, happy family. I discovered myself smiling as I thought: I’ll find you, dear wife and son of mine. I will. And when I do, you’ll regret ever having disobeyed me.