Well...kids are kids....
How do I begin....where...it's too late now...doesn't really matter...
It Was a few months ago...I had just moved into my new society. Pretty decent location, and a much more populated setup than my last one.
I had managed to rent a 25th floor apartment, I needed the view, a kind of a solace that it provided was much needed, since being single again after a long marriage could be pretty stressful.
Regular society...lacked no amenity...was nothing extravagant...but pretty normal scenes played out on a daily basis...delivery guys, house helps moved around...security doing their regular rounds...and kids busy adding a warm element to all the mundaneness of life...
I generally came back home around seven. Though sometimes it got late, especially after a night out with my office chappies.
One of the evenings, around 7ish, as I entered the lobby of my tower, my attention was drawn to a little girl by the staircase...she sat on the floor with her legs propped up and with a her chin on her knees...her doll lay next to her and her water bottle held in her hands...pretty little thing was she in her blue frock...all of 8 or 9....and I just wondered as to why was she not with rest of the kids. Well kids are kids. A young man sat next to her, talking to her gently. "Must be family.", I thought as I moved on.
A couple of days later...and this time around 1030 at night...I got back after one of those regular weekend pubbing session with my colleagues...a bit of light headed state of mind had me pretty happy and chilled out...
As I entered the lobby, I saw that pretty little kid again, at the same spot....same dress, same doll and the same bottle...a sense of deja-vu prevailed as I approached her...
I sat down next to her, grabbing her attention as she looked at me...and I could see she had been crying. "What is it child..why are you so here...don't you want to go back home. Its late, won't your parents be worried", I asked. "They don't love me any more..they keep shouting at me, I think they hate me...", Her words surprised me. "Am sure they don't...come on..what's your floor", I asked trying to know a bit more.
"Its on 20th floor...I cant go up alone...Mummy has told me not to use the lift alone".
"...and your mom is right...come on...I will leave you there", I said...taking her hand.
She stood up, morosely, as if being forced to do that. I tried to cheer her up a bit. " That a nice bottle, what do you have in there. Am sure its something other than water." I said.
"Its that orange squash...the one in the ad on kids channel...I make it myself..You want to take a sip".
" You are a smart kid...yes sure...I would love to", I smiled, seeing the excitement rise in her eyes as she felt appreciated. I took a sip, returning the bottle to her. "Have it, I don't want it". I smiled back and continued to sip till I emptied the bottle.
We entered the lift. She looked at the me, as if hesitant to be in that closed space with a stranger. " Don't worry child...We will be at your place in a jiffy...you don't have to be scared".
" Its not that...", she said as the lift started the ascent. " How long have you been in the building...I guess you are not aware."
I looked at her quizzically, " What don't I know?" . "Last year, there was an incident in this lift. The cable was of poor quality and broke. The lift crashed from the 20th floor. One kid died in the lift due to the impact." She looked at me, a weird look coming in her eyes. I felt a weakness in my knees as I anticipated the answer. "That kid was me..and my head was in a pool of blood when they found me...exactly at the spot where you are standing."
I froze, confused, whether to believe the story of a little kid who might be telling the truth, or be scared of the fact that a young kid could have such a vivid imagination. As I wondered so, she spoke again, " Are you scared of me Uncle? Just because am dead, it doesn't mean am going to hurt you." The question was pretty apt actually. Even if she was a ghost, she really didn't do anything, personally, to scare me.
The sound of the ding at the floor brought me back to my senses. As the doors slid open, she walked out, and stopped. Looking at me in anticipation, she asked, "Are you not walking me to my house?"
I walked out, partly reluctantly, and partly out of curiosity. I had to know. So we walked, as she delicately held my hand. She said, "I so wanted to be a movie director, you know? What would you like to do with your life, if you knew you had little time left?"
"I don't know...may be write a book...", I said.
As we reached the door of her flat, I realized that it was slightly open. She opened it and motioned me inside. As I peeped in, I could see a couple sitting at the dining table, with two empty glasses in front of them. Their faces bore a grim and deeply hurt look. "Understandable...for someone who has lost a child...", I thought to myself. As I moved in further, I saw two people on the couch, bearing a weirdly angry and brooding look. One of them was the young man I had seen with the kid a few days back.
As I approached the parents, they looked up at me, confused. "Hi, I live on the 25th floor...I don't know how to say this...but your daughter got me here."
"Our daughter?..."
"Yeah...I know its weird, and I know she is dead...and maybe you can't see her...but she is here and she is scared. She told me to walk her to this flat. She is standing next to me.", I said pointing to her as I looked at them.
"This girl...the one next to you?" , the father asked, a wondering look coming over his face that quickly started turning to anger.
"You can see her?", I started saying. A strange sense of relief coming over me with the realization that I don't see dead people.
"Yes..that evil thing is standing right next to you.", the mother said, her voice brimming with subdued anger.
" Its ok. She is just a kid. Kids have an active imagination.", I said, surprised at the vehement abhorrence in the mother's tone.
And then the father lost his cool completely. "She is the incarnation of the devil. We regret the day she was born. We are the once who unleashed this curse on the world...and there is nothing we can do about it..."
"Now hold on...", I said, coming in between the father and the girl. "She is just a kid, you don't..."
"She is not a kid...", he cut me off, screaming. "She is evil. Two weeks ago, she poisoned and killed us with the orange squash that she makes. The glasses are still on the table and our bodies are still in the bathroom, where we died, vomiting and choking. But that was not enough. She has murdered these two young men in the last week, getting them up here with the very same excuse that she has given you. Their bodies are turning blue in the other bathroom and bedroom. An I guess its too late for you too now..."
A cold sensation crept all over my body as I felt a heaviness fill my chest. I looked at her and found her staring back at me with anticipation, a smile building up in the corner of her lips. "Do you feel it yet?", she asked, as I felt my breath weakening and froth starting to build in my mouth. My strength drained out of me as I tried to vomit the poison out, my vision fading as I slumped heavily on the floor. I tried to reach out and grab her, giving up as I realized the futility of the effort. I finally succumbed to the feeling, dying a slow and painful death.
