Category: Random Thoughts

Author’s note: This is second installment of a short story from my latest book: The Bracelet and other short stories. You can find the other parts here: The Far Door: Part 1, The Far Door: Part 3 and The Far Door: Part 4.

**Wednesday**

**Thursday**

**Friday**

For three days, I have avoided looking at the door. The absence of a metal latch and lock on the far door is putting me on the edge. The wooden latch just didn’t cut it. I keep reminding myself that the rooms are probably just full of old furniture. On weekdays, it is easier; I am out for work all day, returning only to eat and sleep. But on the Friday morning, I hear whispered voices on the other side of the door. Not sure what are they saying, but there are many.

Franc’s warning comes to my mind, “Just don’t open the latch to the door.” Does he know about the voices too?

I haven’t made up my mind about selling or sharing the key, but I have to make this place safe while I am here. So, I call a locksmith that evening to fit the new metal latch—a thick copper one to match the interiors, of course. He pulls out the wooden bolts holding the wooden latch and replaces the set with copper latch and bolts. He pushes and pulls at the door several times in the process, which should have opened the door and broken my promise to Franc. But the door doesn’t budge. It seems to be locked from the inside as well. How is that even possible if no one is on the other side?

Pushing aside the thought, I pay the locksmith. And then, I hang a huge copper lock from the new latch. Technically, I haven’t done anything wrong since I haven’t opened the door.

I can finally breathe easy. No one can force their way in now, or so I hope.

**Saturday**

I don my apron and wash the vegetables to prepare breakfast. I am about to sit down to cut them, but I can’t find my knife. The knife I had brought with me isn’t in the copper stand in the kitchen; neither is it in the sink nor dustbin. In fact, all the stainless‑steel cutlery I had brought with me is missing. I look at the far door accusingly; the metal latch and lock are still in place. I will have to go to market to buy a cutlery set today. How can an entire cutlery set go missing overnight? The thought is unsettling. It is even more difficult to sleep that night.

**Sunday**

Some of the silverware my grandmother bequeathed me is missing. I rummage the place—the drawers, wardrobes, the space under the sink…

Something on the floor glints back at me; a silver spoon…

…or what is left of it! Someone has bitten off half the head. I can see the toothmark on the bitten edge.

The far door is still locked.

I am hyperventilating now. I run down the stairs and out in the yard. It feels better to be out in the sunlight. A couple of old women stand there, smiling and talking. Deciding some small talk will sooth my nerves, I approach them. One of them looks up and her eyes turn hostile, daring me to speak. I want to turn back and leave but the other lady smiles, “Hi! You must be our new neighbour! How are you finding the place?”

I want to tell the truth, but politeness takes over, “It’s nice.”

“Have you met Franc yet? He said that he will speak to you about buying your portion.”

“Yes. I’m still considering the offer.”

The hostile lady hisses from between clenched teeth, “You would have taken the offer and run with it if you knew what’s good for you. That poor lad has enough on his plate already—His senile grandpa who sleepwalks and two little kids, while his wife dumped them all for another man. He just went to Gorgon for a month to bury his parents, and you locked him out of his house! Now his grandpa is stuck inside a room for the fear of making a spectacle of himself and his children can’t go to school because we are unable to look after his grandpa. Franc can’t cook for them since he has no kitchen, and he can’t return from office until late in the night because he can’t be seen f—,” She bites her lower lip as if she had gone a little too far.

I am too horrified to dwell over that, “Are you implying his family was living here when I moved in; that he was out just for a month? The agent never told me!”

Her voice softens a bit, “Well, you wouldn’t have bought the house then, would you? I bet, he must have given you a really low price too.”

The other lady pitches in, “Franc’s grandpa is a co‑owner along with Marc. It is Marc’s portion you have bought. They were childhood friends, and their families lived together. Since Marc and Lily had no children, he had intended to bequeath the rest of the house to Franc. But before he could create the will, he died in a car crash along with Franc’s parents. While Franc went to Gorgon to bury them all, Lily’s nephew who had received Marc’s estate asked an agent to sell everything. He never cared enough to come here and look at the place where his uncle and aunt spent their entire lives. And why would he? Lily’s family never accepted her marriage with Marc. They were ashamed of him being a g—” She too stops mid‑sentence, probably realising she is offering me Franc’s personal information.

“That’s horrible! I kicked his entire family out without even knowing it. Can you please ask Franc to come home and meet me this evening?”

*****

I can barely wait for Franc, sitting as close to the main door as possible in case I have to run out again…

In case the monster returns…

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Author’s note: To be continued…

Let me know if you wish to read the next part, or you can simply download the free PDF version of the book from here: Books by Shaily

Original photo by Casey Lovegrove on Unsplash (with minor edits based on the story)