The Longest Haunting of My Life

When COVID struck, both of my parents were residing in Canada. I lived with my maternal grandparents while I was in high school, primarily to help them. We left the city when COVID-19 spread, in April 2020, when all schools and universities were closed to prevent the spread of the virus. The home we relocated to was located in the center of the Padma River on a river island.

It was isolated, and I mean it when I say that. The river island has a boomerang-like shape. Its northwest arm was older and roughly 4 kilometers long. Approximately 30 years above sea level. We lived in that section. There were several trees and other residents in that area. At least three miles to the north was a village of fifty or more residents. Since the island would mostly submerge during the monsoon, everyone in that village owned boats and lived on them during that time. It had precisely five tall palm trees, sporadic bamboo gardens, and little shrubbery trees. At the time, the grass on that side of the island was at least as tall as myself.

Two kilometers long, the island's southern side was brand-new and primarily still had exposed white sand. No one lived there, and it had hardly been there for a year.

We were relocating to an ancient tin shed home raised on towering stilts. It was one storey and had a contemporary plan, even though it needed major renovations when we moved in. It featured three bedrooms, one with a huge window to the east and two to the south that shared a long balcony. Bathrooms were attached to both the east and southern ones. They were attached to a communal eating area with a kitchen, a shared bathroom, and a north window. To the west was the patio and the entryway. Every door was composed of steel. My grandparents moved into the southern room with the associated bathroom, while I occupied the eastern room. We had the paint job redone for us when we moved in. For power, we purchased a tiny generator.

After having a stroke in 2018, my grandfather's left side of his body lost strength. He needed assistance getting dressed and someone to hold his hand when he was outside, but he was able to walk, take baths, and use the restroom on his own. If my grandma walked too much, her feet would painfully swell up.

We also hired a maid since I needed to study and get ready for my high school graduation examinations, which were scheduled to begin as soon as classes resumed. She was a young local woman in her mid-twenties whose husband stopped returning her calls after moving to the city. She required money to maintain herself and had no formal schooling beyond the fifth grade.

She looked to be the target of whatever supernatural energies had been associated with the location. She had to deal with the most brutal and mentally taxing supernatural occurrences that took place in the house. And because we were close in age and got along well, she informed me about it. However, she requested that I keep them a secret. Following her requests, I will only discuss the experiences I had.

In fact, the first incidence occurred when we first moved in. On their bed, my grandparents were already fast asleep. The housekeeper was still not here. I was having trouble sleeping somewhere new. I heard a noise from below at around one in the morning. It sounded as though sticks were being used to strike the stilts. My initial assumption was that the house was simply adjusting to the extra load after we recently brought in a lot of new furniture. It was a typical sound, though. Furthermore, it sounded quite obviously like something being repeatedly struck. I began to question whether the building was beginning to fall. I stepped outdoors with a flashlight to see what was creating the noise. However, the sound ceased when I descended the steps, and when I looked beneath the house with the flashlight, nothing was visible.

In the middle of May, when our maid had come, I was studying in my room after my grandparents had gone to bed. I noticed someone or something dark standing in the dining area at about eleven p.m. My initial, illogical assumption was that it was the new housekeeper. However, it was as wide as a door and nearly as tall as the ceiling. Additionally, the housekeeper was quite tiny and only five feet tall. Upon realizing this, I turned to face it again and noticed that it was rapidly approaching the window while loudly toppling a chair in the process. By the way, it could not just jump out because the window has bars. When I turned on the light after running into the dining room, nothing was there. To avoid frightening her away on her first night, I told the housekeeper that I had inadvertently tipped it when she came out of her room to check. I still feel bad about telling her that.

Following that, events began to occur throughout the house. Out of the corner of my eye, I would occasionally spot shadow people. I hear strange sounds, like people outside speaking in words I can not understand, but when I look around, nobody is there. Almost every night, I would hear someone outside calling my name. I get touched when I am attempting to fall asleep or study. Our generator would occasionally cut off without warning, although this was most likely due to a mechanical issue.

Nothing was being tossed around, but our housekeepers seemed to react much more aggressively to the presence. She would hear the voices making fun of her circumstances and insulting her. Even though there were no ants in the rest of the home, if she left her food alone for even five minutes, it would get ants. There were moments when she thought something had pierced her skin, only to discover that the area was hot and red, as though she had been clawing there. Perhaps those are bug bites, but given the circumstances, I am more likely to think they are not. She was once locked from the outside of her room. She tried to spend time elsewhere in the house after that since she did not feel safe in her room at night. She apparently had nowhere else to go, therefore, she was unable to quit. Almost nothing occurred involving my grandparents. Being very devout, my grandmother maintained that she had trust that Allah protected them and prevented terrible things from occurring. Only she and her grandfather appeared to be benefiting from it.

The river island flooded entirely during the July monsoon, with water rising to the fifth step leading up to the home. The gushing water encircled our house from all sides. For the commune, my grandparents purchased a motorboat. Since the housekeeper stayed at home in case of an emergency, I was the only one who utilized it.

Some vegetables fell from the motorboat when I was loading supplies and gasoline for the generator at around six of the clock one evening. I felt as though something had gotten on the boat when I heard a splash as I bent over the water to pick it up. I was about to turn to look when I felt a strong sense of wrongness. Slowly, I looked around and noticed that there was something black seated on the opposite end of the boat from me. Twelve feet or so from me in this instance. I waited for it to go away while keeping my eyes down and avoiding eye contact. No, it didn't. Even though I could not see it, I could tell it was staring at me. I eventually reached out and switched on the boat's motor in the hopes that moving would help it go. It persisted. I plunged into the water around fifteen feet from the stairs and managed to navigate the boat to the house without glancing at it. It was gone as I climbed the steps and turned around. I pulled the motorboat in and grabbed the fuel and food.

Something knocked on my window that night. Since the window is at least six feet above the water's surface and there was open water on the opposite side, it should not have been feasible.

Around midnight in September 2020, I discovered the door to the housekeeper's room open. She was not there when I walked in to talk. When I searched the home for her, I discovered the front door was open. When I emerged, I saw a distinct track of grass that had been trampled under, as though a buffalo or elephant had passed through. That much grass could not have been trampled underfoot by our little housekeeping during the move.

Nevertheless, I followed it, and around two hundred yards from the home, I reached the newer, southern side of the river island. I discovered that our housekeeper appeared to be sleepwalking as she disappeared into the white sand. When I reached her, I woke her up by shaking her. She broke down in tears and declared that she would not return to the house. For the sake of modesty, however, she returned after walking out in the clothes she had slept in (September in Bangladesh is not the best time to sleep with a lot of garments on, especially in a tin shed dwelling). However, before my grandparents woke up at dawn that day, she lay on the floor of my room, got up, and returned to her own room.

Without mentioning leaving the house, she resumed her routine of chores the following day.

After then, her situation deteriorated further. She took many precautions to prevent becoming a victim of these influences, such as taking a bath in the river rather than inside the home and eating her food as soon as she finished preparing it. However, she seems to be followed by things, and they would torture her in whatever place as soon as nightfall arrived. In the house, bad things happened. My grandma would pray all the time, and it seemed to help her and my grandfather. It even temporarily calmed me down. However, our housekeeper was unaffected. At one point, I believe our housekeeper was there merely to spite whatever was in the house rather than for the money or shelter.

Our housekeeper revealed that she had obtained a trail of her spouse in April 2021. She then gathered her belongings and departed.

After that, things were considerably less hostile. I occasionally caught glimpses of something out of the corner of my eye. The sporadic pat on the arm as I am seated at the table. I once hurried around, assuming one of my grandparents had fallen, when I heard something heavy and loud crash on the floor. There was nothing wrong.

Four months later, we moved out of that place. I never had that kind of paranormal encounter again. Unexplainable things did happen to me, but they seemed very different from whatever was in that house.

In November of last year, I happened to run into the housekeeper again. We conversed. Her life has been on a downhill spiral ever since, yet it seems that the supernatural has never followed her. She is no longer able to conceive. Before continuing with my life, I gave her some money.

What are your thoughts on this? There is no history in the house because it has been vacant since my grandfather built it. Also, the land is very new. Why would a ghost so viciously target one individual?