“I hear them dragging the furniture every night,” Shahroz shared, his eyes popping out in fear.

“At what time?” Sara asked eagerly.

“Yes, around 3 am,” Shahroz replied.

I took a deep breath. Unlike my cousin’s usual habit, this time they had somehow agreed to wind up the creepy conversation early. Otherwise, they were extremely fond of sharing scary stories at night whenever we cousins met at a place. I was just about to crack a joke when Zara came up with a new story.

“I didn’t want to share this, as it’s my friend’s secret,” she began, lowering her voice, “but I feel you people should know about the haunted corridor in our school!”

There began a spine-chilling story about her friend, who was followed by a shadow in that corridor.

“Oh!” I uttered, disappointment that the topic still wasn’t over.

This is how horror story sessions begin everywhere. Close friends or cousins sit together, chatting casually and all of a sudden someone starts a scary tale. It can happen anytime, anywhere, but it makes the most impact when night has completely settled in, especially during winter, when every sound hits harder. The stories grab everyone’s attention and usually end only when the person who started them dozes off or walks away to sleep.

I am generally a silent listener during such spooky sessions. My problem is that these stories echo in my mind. For days, I get scared of literally everything — a loud door bang, the creak of wooden doors, heavy footsteps, sudden knocks, even the slightest snores. All of it terrifies me badly. So, I usually try to stay away during such scary story sessions, but I never admit this in front of my gang. That would mean handing over my weakness to them and I will never escape being the target of their fun.

“Why do you keep quiet? Don’t you have anything to share?” Zara asked, trying to pull me into the conversation.

“Actually, I’ve learnt to co-exist!” I replied.

It was my shortest and most mature-sounding tagline in such moments. Deep down, though, I knew the blood had almost drained out of my body after hearing just four stories during the current session. And I was sure more ‘treasures’ were yet to be revealed.

This time, we were sitting in the common living area of a three-bedroom rented apartment. We were there to attend a wedding, and the host had rented the place for our convenience. It was quite secluded, which is why we thought it would be more fun to stay there instead of the groom’s main house, which was full of all kinds of relatives. It was our first night there. After travelling from all over the country to finally meet, we were excited and full of energy.

Around 1:30 am, I went to the toilet, the first one to use it. I heard some kids chatting and playing.

“Okay… there must be another family here too,” I thought to myself. “Their kids seem excited and are having fun at night as well.”

I paid little attention to the sounds.

Soon, one by one, my cousins started feeling sleepy and dispersed to their beds. I chose a spot in the centre, with two cousins sleeping on either side. I felt safer that way, though I pretended to be easygoing and not fussy about where I slept. Just as I was about to drift off, I heard strange laughter. I ignored it, assuming my cousins were trying to prank me.

Morning arrived fresh and lively. We gathered happily and left for the groom’s house and there we were assigned different tasks, which kept us busy throughout the day. At night, we returned to the rented apartment for more fun. We practised dance routines for the pre-wedding festivities. Music played loudly as we clapped, whistled and teased one another, especially when someone missed a step or two. It was family fun at its best.

All of a sudden, I heard the sound of a drum, like a typical dholk. I knew someone else was enjoying themselves too… but who?

“There must be other tenants as well,” I reassured myself.

After mastering dance steps to one song, we finally went to sleep. Everything remained calm that night and we all slept comfortably.

On the third day of our stay, Zara and Sara casually mentioned that they heard people fighting and children playing at around 3:00 am every night. They spoke about it very casually. I told them it must be another family living in the building.

Shahroz nodded silently and left the room. He seemed unusually eager to leave, which wasn’t like him at all. He was the kind who enjoyed even made-up spooky tales, and these observations could have given him material for another story.

Days passed quickly, and soon the wedding was over. We had the best time of our lives. As we packed our bags to leave the rented apartment, Shahroz remained quiet, perhaps lost in some troubling thought. He didn’t say anything until we were seated in our train compartment, heading back home.

“One night, I peeped out of the window to see those daring kids who played at 3:00 am in such extreme cold,” Shahroz finally said. “And believe me, I saw small heads playing in the pitch-black lawn. There was no light at all! I also tried to understand the verbal fight most of us had heard every night… but it sounded like a completely different language.”

He paused, then added, “I heard someone’s laughter occasionally too, but it was very shrill, extremely strange.”

Shahroz went on to tell us that he had checked with the gatekeeper of the building. There was no apartment where a family with small children lived. Moreover, no one was allowed to stay in the common lawn area after 11:00 pm.

For the first time in my life, I contributed something to the discussion. I told them that the noises would appear suddenly, very vividly, and then vanish completely the next second. I also mentioned the dholk sound. To my shock, no one else had heard it that night.

The conversation sent chills down my spine, so once again, I decided to handle the situation ‘maturely’.

“It is their world as well; we need to learn to co-exist,” I said, sounding brave. I even noticed admiration in my cousins’ eyes.

Who could tell that my last drop of blood had already drained out, and the shivering was not because of the cold, but because of fear?

Published in Dawn, Young World, January 31st, 2026