Nandini Bohra, Class VIII A
It was a rainy day. I was in my room, relaxing on my bed, thinking of how much I loved the monsoon season. The simple reason was that I could stay home, miss my tuitions and have fun with friends.
But this time all my preparations and calculations went wrong when mom told me that we had new neighbours who had a child, about my age. She was going to come home any moment. I was not so excited because last time a mom’s friend dropped in; I was super bored.
The doorbell rang and a girl came in. She was soberly dressed and carried a mysterious look on her face. I was ready with my fake smile. She told us her name was Insha. I took her to my room and we started to talk about our likes and dislikes, hobbies and favourite pass-times. Just then she showed me a book she was carrying.
Worn out, dusty, black, like any typical boring book. She was just passing it to me when a note fell off from within the book. I was busy picking it up when I saw her getting up and peeking into my drawers. I didn’t bother much about it.
That note, it shook me to my depths. It read: “Hello. I am 13 years old and will always be. Let me tell you my story. I was new in the housing society. Mom told me to go to Shreya’s house, another girl in the same society. I went there with high hopes of making a friend, after all we were meeting for the first time.
She lived on the twelfth floor. I went there. After a while, we became comfortable. We started to run around her room, and just when I was near the open window I slipped and fell. My parents found my body. Oh I tell you, such a bad day it was. By the way, my name is …..Insha.”
I was terrified. I wasn’t able to move but then I heard the footsteps of someone running, just when I looked up, I saw Insha, at the window, about to slip. I shrieked.
She fell off exactly as it was written in the note. I rushed to the window to see what happened. To my surprise, there was nothing, as if she vanished in the air. I was still in a state of shock when the doorbell rang. Mom opened the door and guess what, it was Preeti; our neighbours’ ‘real’ daughter.
My parents didn’t believe me but I believe that you would believe me. I don’t like monsoon anymore, I hope you understand why.
