We were in France then - when I heard the footsteps first. We lived in a tiny apartment on the top floor of student housing - in a large sprawling university campus. It was about two weeks since we had arrived and we were more or less settled in our temporary home. We went to bed around 11pm - and it must have been a couple of hours after that. I was still awake, still trying the various relaxation techniques of an insomniac, slow breathing, accu-pressure points, counting sheep, when I heard footsteps above, walking the length of corridor, climb down a flight of stairs and come down our corridor. They approached with a firm step towards our apartment - and stopped. There was an ominous silence of a presence, right outside, at the doorstep - waiting. I stopped breathing - eyes wide awake - frozen in terror, in the freezing room. He slept quietly and peacefully - within touching distance. I stared at him, trying to calm down, and don't remember when I fell asleep. Next morning I laughed off my silly fears, blaming it on my overactive imagination.
I remember that day well - it was cold, and brilliant. I went for a walk, spoke to family back home and painted. It was a good day. The disquiet began even as evening approached. Darkness spread outside and within. I told him about last night and was hugged and reassured - maybe someone was just walking past to their own apartment? and decided to walk quietly, to not disturb people? I gratefully accepted the explanation. In bed, I clutched on to his hand and decided to be good and get a whole night's sleep. Surprisingly I fell asleep, fairly soon.
I woke up - completely alert - with someone knocking in my head. The footsteps were slowly climbing down the long flight of stairs and making their way down our corridor. It was a little after 1 am. I quickly covered my head with a quilt and lay wide eyed in inky black blindness, covered with a thin film of sweat. The footsteps approached firmly and assuredly to our door and stopped. The suspense became finally unbearable. I softly shook him and whispered "someone is outside. Being used to my theatrics, he woke up and went to take a look. There was no one outside. I felt foolish at disturbing him and held on to his hand and finally managed sleep.
After that I decided to not to wake him up. The footsteps however continued - till we left the place.
I had always prided myself on being a rationalist - but our floor had no flights of steps going up and there was no upstairs.
I remember that day well - it was cold, and brilliant. I went for a walk, spoke to family back home and painted. It was a good day. The disquiet began even as evening approached. Darkness spread outside and within. I told him about last night and was hugged and reassured - maybe someone was just walking past to their own apartment? and decided to walk quietly, to not disturb people? I gratefully accepted the explanation. In bed, I clutched on to his hand and decided to be good and get a whole night's sleep. Surprisingly I fell asleep, fairly soon.
I woke up - completely alert - with someone knocking in my head. The footsteps were slowly climbing down the long flight of stairs and making their way down our corridor. It was a little after 1 am. I quickly covered my head with a quilt and lay wide eyed in inky black blindness, covered with a thin film of sweat. The footsteps approached firmly and assuredly to our door and stopped. The suspense became finally unbearable. I softly shook him and whispered "someone is outside. Being used to my theatrics, he woke up and went to take a look. There was no one outside. I felt foolish at disturbing him and held on to his hand and finally managed sleep.
After that I decided to not to wake him up. The footsteps however continued - till we left the place.
I had always prided myself on being a rationalist - but our floor had no flights of steps going up and there was no upstairs.
No comments:
Post a Comment