The House I Never Forgot

When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was my father standing in front of the cellar door.

That wouldn't have been strange if my father hadn't been dead for three weeks.

I kept staring at him without moving. He was standing at the end of The Corridor, in the same old clothes, with the same pale face I had seen the last time I said goodbye to him. He said nothing, just raised his finger to his mouth, then pointed at the cellar door.

I looked at the door.

It was closed.

And when I looked back at him, he was gone.

I jumped up and ran toward The Corridor.

There was no one there.

I opened the cellar door quickly, but I stopped at the first step.

From the darkness below came my father's voice:

"Don't go down."

I froze.

His voice was clear, very close.

Then I heard a faint laugh from the depths of the cellar.

I didn't move.

I stepped back, and suddenly I heard another voice behind me:

"You're always late."

I turned around.

There was no one there.

But the front door of The House was open.

I was sure I had closed it.

I approached it slowly, and then I noticed something on the floor.

Wet footprints.

They started at the door and led toward me.

Then they stopped right in front of my feet.

I raised my head toward the darkness outside The House.

The Road was empty.

But at the end of The Garden, behind the trees, someone stood watching me.

I couldn't see his face.

I raised my phone to light the place.

He was gone.

I looked at the phone screen.

It was 2:17 a.m.

At that same moment I received a message from my father's number.

I opened it with a trembling hand.

The message was very short:

"Don't enter The House again."

I raised my eyes toward The House.

Then I received a second message.

"Because you didn't enter it tonight."

My breath stopped.

I looked at the door behind me.

Then at my feet.

I was standing outside The House.

But I could hear footsteps moving on the upper floor.

Footsteps of someone who looked exactly like me.

Then a voice came from inside:

"You're finally back."