It was a strange morning. Rather strange indeed. I had woken up unusually early to find myself sweating, though the window was open and the cold air of December morning entered through it. I had had a bad dream, a terrible one and all I remember from it was a girl about my age, standing with her back to me so that I could only see her tangled black hair. I remembered nothing else but still felt my heart thumping and knew that the dream I had had, whatever it may be, was very dangerous.
I moved my hand to the bedside cabinet, searching for a glass of water. I drank the water thirstily and then though it was only 5:30 in the morning, I found it hard to sleep. So I decided to go for a morning walk. I pulled on my jacket and took my earmuffs and set out for the walk. Everything was gloomy that morning. The birds, strangely, weren't singing that day and though the plants were aflower, they seemed sort of creepy. I felt uncomfortable, I felt lonely. After about 20 minutes I went home and got ready for school. At the breakfast table, however, the things were the same as they used to be every weekday morning. Mum asked me about my studies and dad about grades. And suddenly I cheered up for I was sure of getting an A grade in my maths assignment which was to be submitted that day. I had worked two whole weeks on that. With the same enthusiasm, I climbed the school bus and soon started chatting away with my friend Mona. When we reached school we climbed down the bus and after the morning assembly, headed straight for our classrooms. The day went on, as usual, the routine lecturing of teachers, completing our copybooks, and learning lessons.
Everything was fine until the sports period began. As we were running on the playground I accidentally bumped into a girl called Anne and she fell down. I gave my hand to her but she put it off, got up and still half crying, ran away from the playground. I couldn't simply get the head or tail of what had happened right now. Firstly I don't much like people who cry at small scratches or hurts. Nevertheless, knowing it was my mistake I had offered help and she had arrogantly put it off. I was angry and confused, for what was the reason for her to run away like that? Couldn't she argue with me then and there in the playground? That would have been much better, for now, I was left with nothing but a confusing doubt in my mind. My friend Mona understood this and engaged me in a game of Soccer and I forgot everything.
After the games period, The maths class began and before the class started I saw Anne searching my bag. Before I could reach her, my friend Mona came over to me to ask something. In that small moment Anne vanished, and that too, as I learned later, with my MATHS ASSIGNMENT! What was I to do? I was again angry at Anne. And as a result, for the first time ever, my teacher scolded me in class I. could feel the heat of my anger on my fingertips, it was travelling all through my body. Anytime I could flare up but I controlled myself. And I am happy I did, or else I could have ended up in the principal's cabin! What would we worse? Well, surprisingly there were things that were actually worse to happen that day.
After school ended, I quickly grabbed my backpack and ran out of the classroom. I searched the school building from up to down. Everywhere. The classrooms, the corridors, staff room, music and art room, library, the courts and even the storeroom. But to my annoyment, I could find nothing of Anne. It was like she had vanished, disappeared completely in thin air. It had been a very bad and strange day. Sighing, I left the school in dismay.
After I reached home, I hurried to my bedroom to avoid any awkward questions and I slept, for I didn't want to be made sad by my drifting thoughts of that day. I was woken by my mother shaking me. I asked her what had happened.
"Your friend Anne wants to see you. She is downstairs," she replied.
"Why does she want to see me? "
"Wants to return your book or something ."
"Fine. I am coming. "I said.
I went down and found the living room empty. I thought she was at the door and I went to the entrance but she was not there too. All I could find was a book which I supposed to be the book Anne had stolen that day. But no. It was a blank notebook with a note in red on the front page. The note read,
"THE BURNT COTTAGE AT 10 P. M., IF YOU WANT IT. TELL NOBODY."
The burnt cottage was an abandoned cottage in the north of the town. I didn't know what to do. I hardly knew what I was eating that night at the dinner table. All sorts of questions arose in my mind. Why had she called me at the burnt cottage? Should I go? Will it be dangerous? What if something bad happened? And the biggest problem was, I couldn't tell mum or dad. I knew what they would say,
"STOP MAKING COCK AND BULL STORIES. ADMIT THAT YOU DIDN'T COMPLETE YOUR ASSIGNMENT."
No, no way. I decided I will go. Whatever may happen, I couldn't carry on with it anymore. I would die or retain my peace of mind. So at 9:45, when mum and dad were fast asleep, I took a torch and creeped quietly out of the house in the vast darkness of the night. Few lights of the bikes and cars flashed here and there. The shops were slowly closing down. Roads became deserted. And with my heart beating fast and sweat trickling down my neck, I took quick steps towards the burnt cottage.
There it was. Still as ice and silent as a lake. There was nobody around. Few distant houses are shown with the cooling moonlight and I advanced slowly, believing in my fate and God. I pushed the broken door of the cottage and went in. The crackling of the dry leaves by my footsteps sounded across the place. I left the door open for it kept me from feeling alone. I looked inside. Nothing. The cottage was full of nothing but thick dust and dry leaves on the floor, broken furniture, and spider webs hanging from the ceiling. I decided to look everywhere in the cottage and started roaming around. There was a living room, a small kitchen and a bedroom. I wondered what had happened to the family that had lived there before it became an abandoned, damaged house and then I suddenly noticed the frames that were on the walls of the living room. All were covered with dust but I could make out that they were photographs of people. I took a frame in my hands and wiped the dust from it. There was a photograph of a family, a man with jet black hair, a woman smiling sweetly, a boy of about my present age and then there was a baby girl with tangled black hair. And for a moment I thought she was Anne. But then I thought it was silly. What would a photograph of Anne's family do in the wretched cottage? And what's more, Anne was an orphan and lived with her grandparents. But then I noticed the black spot on the baby girl's lips. Now there was no doubt that she was Anne. Not many people have a black spot on their lips. Those tangled black hair, the spot, the round small eyes and pale brown skin, all said that she was Anne. I decided to look at other frames. One was of the baby girl Anne alone and as I thought about the strange possibilities that entered my mind, I felt a hand on my shoulder. My heart beat a thousand times a second, I started sweating from head to feet, my throat was dry and I turned round to be face to face with....
