Hungry spirit

Misha returned home, one late evening, to find her living room window broken, shattered glass scattered on the floor. Immediately, she picked up a dustpan and broom, collected the shards of glasses and threw them away.

The open window left her unsettled. Her flat was on the ground floor and as such, any person could launch themselves, into the flat by simply hoisting themselves up through the window.

Misha was a paranoid person at heart, and after cleaning the shards she immediately called for the window to be fixed. But unfortunate as she was, the window won't be fixed until the next day.

So that night, Misha made sure that all the doors were locked and scattered some marbles and bells below the window, thinking that should anyone attempt at entering, the marbles will ensure a fall loud enough with the bells for her to hear.

Thus, slightly assured she went to bed. But her sleep was disturbed as a loud crashing sound woke her up. Quietly she picked up a stick from the corner of her room and left her again. She heard the sound again. It sounded as if someone was in the kitchen, opening one of the cupboards.

"Who's there?", she called, her voice shaking.

No reply, no noise came.

" Show yourself, I'm armed!"

She turned on the passage light. Some distance away, she could see the kitchen to her left and the living room to her right.

When she couldn't hear any voice, she took a few steps further and into the kitchen. Turning the kitchen light on, she saw a bowl on the platform. Misha couldn't remember placing it there. But it was the one that she daily used, that she was certain. Assuming the voices to be her imagination and the bowl being misplaced she returned it onto the rack behind the burner and returned to bed, having turned off the lights.

The next day, the broken window was replaced. Misha felt a little at ease now. But her problems were far from over. Strange things kept happening. Strange and inexplicable.

Every evening as she returned home, she found the couch pillows all on the floor. One of her baby cactus printed t-shirts went missing. Every night after midnight she could hear faint footsteps walking up and down the passage. The door of the spare bedroom, opening and shutting. Each morning, Misha could find chocolate wrappers and empty chips packets in the room. She searched and searched her house in the morning but couldn't find anything.

But apart from the missing groceries and the messes what feared Misha more were the footsteps that grew louder every night and her failure at finding the person behind it all. This made her think that there were spirits around.

One night, after midnight, after she had heard the footsteps, gathering what little courage she could, she searched the house, but even still she couldn't find anything. Thus, her belief that there were spirits at work become stronger. She started leaving salts and garlic around her flat and on herself; until she began to smell like garlic.

Seeing her in such a pitiful state, her friend Sara decided to stay over. This made Misha's mind easy with getting rid of the salt and garlic.

Sara, unlike Misha, was practical and rational. And hence, saw this peril as a problem that needed to be solved rather than a spirit that needed to be banished.

Sara, saw the signs of presence as Misha called them, left untouched by her. But Sara concluded that someone was living in the flat, without Misha's awareness. However, she kept her thoughts a secret from Misha.

When Sara was checking the window, she realised that the latch was faulty and as such the window couldn't close down. Meaning that anyone could open the window with the assist of the inch-long gap between the glass panel of the window and the window sill.

Sara knew that whatever was happening was centred around the window and the spare room. One part of the problem, she had solved as she saw the problematic window. While the spare room part could only be solved at night and for that, Sara waited eagerly for the night to draw on.

That night, Sara saw to that Misha was sound asleep before she retreated to the spare room. In the farthest corner of the room then, Sara waited, crouched on the floor, a torch in hand, a shawl by her feet and a pocket knife concealed under her tee-shirt should the struggle become too strong for her.

The house was silent and in this silence as Sara waited, hearing the clock tick overtime. Midnight. Sara gripped the torch tighter.

Some minutes later Sara thought, she heard footsteps fall in the living room. Slowly, she receded in the space between the cupboard and the farthest wall. Such that the door was within her sight. The light of the streetlamp coming in throw the window, made it so that the room was dimly lit while she was shrouded in darkness.

The footsteps could now be heard clearly. Along with them, a ruffling like that of plastic echoed.

Just as Sara anticipated, the door of the room slowly swung open. Sara saw the outline of a skinny kid, clutching packets of chips. Relief washed over her in the knowledge that her opponent wasn't a goon.

The kid deposited its goods on the unmade bed, then climbed on the bed, himself. Slowly, Sara emerged from her hiding place. Still crouched, she walked on her hands and feet and then in a series of swift movements, she threw the shawl onto the kid and turned on the light.

These sudden changes caused the kid to shriek making Misha wake up. The passage echoed with her steps as she came running into the room.

"What happened?? Are you alright?", she asked, concerned expressing itself through every aspect of her being. " What's that?"

" I'm fine", assured Sara. "I found your spirit. Turns out it was one hungry little street kid, who stumbled upon a shelter and hoards of food."

Sara drew closer to the bed and gently pulled away the shawl revealing a boy not older than ten in torn and dirty clothing, shedding silent tears as he clutched a packet of chips close to him.

Misha gasped.

"I'll get him some water", saying so Sara left the room.

In a tearful voice, the kid spoke, " Please don't send me back to the streets. The big boys beat me up. I never stole anything from you." Then releasing the packet he held, he said, "I'll work hard and pay for this. I promise. Please let me stay here."

Then, once more he burst into tears.

The two girls at least succeeded in calming the child down. And Misha decided to take him under her wing.

Even still Misha continues to hear footsteps after midnight, but she is no longer afraid, for she knows that it's Ani for that's his name, is on his way to retrieve a midnight snack.