My aunt was possessed at work during the daytime. She went to the back store to fetch some goods. From the shop, my uncle realised that she was taking longer than expected, and went to check if she was all right, but was found strangling herself. She was trying to take out the ghost inside her by any means, threatening or even killing by the strangling, but may’ve actually been the ghost strangling her. This is a very cheeky and devilish trick of the ghost, which makes people see the strangling both ways rather than the one.
I observed my Dad curiously as he jotted away on his memo pad with quick sketches, but most importantly his expression during the conversation. As it grew older, his face did too, from a grinning look to a shot clown’s. I knew him too well, and I knew something was wrong.
He put the phone down and sighed in disappointment. He left his comfy, prestige, leather-cushioned seat, and sat by me on the hard, dust full floor. He told me that he she had to be taken to India in order to batter the ghost out. All the other brothers and sisters were TOO BUSY to care for their sister, but my dad was different.
He got on the phone and asked for two urgent tickets to India. They only had first class, but had no choice but to take them. He knew I’d be disappointed in him going, but I showed a brave face and said it doesn’t matter. He must have been feeling worse then I did, as his sister was possessed.
The doorbell rang the night before the flight. I ran downstairs and gasped unexpectedly. My aunt and dad stood on the doormat outside. I was surprised to see her here and unfortunately scared. She looked more innocent. Her face was paler and seemed quieter than her usual self.
Us kids went into our rooms, as my Dad sat with her in the sitting room. We didn’t want to not show our support, but we were just too scared. The fact that a ghosts’ presence was in our house topped it all up.
We went in the kitchen for a bowl of Frosties to fill our empty stomachs, and sat up on the worktop. We laughed and giggled with jokes, until my aunt came in. We were asked to act as usual around her, but it was easier said then done. She filled her glass with water, and made her way out of the room. She turned to me and put her hand on my leg and asked if I was scared of her. My spoon of full milk rattled like a volcano, dribbling down all sides of the spoon. She was looking me in the eye, and I did nothing but look straight back at her. She was still my aunt, and she needed my help. I told her that I wasn’t, to show some sort of braveness in supporting her. She left the room as my sisters stared at me. My top was flooded with puddles of milk.
My uncles and aunts arrived to see her, as my Dad was going to find out the truth. He told her the news on going to India, but all she did was pretend to cry, which was a fake because no feelings were put in, as tears did not come out. The ghost was still on top of her. He grabbed her and pulled from the root. Ghosts can feel only this in pain. He got hold of the ghost inside and asked some replied questions. The ghost spoke meanly and low tonally, refusing to go.
As she went to the airport with my Dad the next day, the ghost pleaded not to be taken to India once again, but my Dad tricked the ghost to fall for it.
The ghost was battered out by a priest in the gurudwa temple in India
Possession and ghosts are very common in India. Many of the streets and pathways are haunted with their own stories. My grandma was