The silent visitor.

In the dead of the night someone knocked at my door. The howling gusts of wind muffled this sound and I threw myself back on the couch trying to embrace slumber once again, in the dimly lit sitting room. It wasn’t my insensate indifference, but my fatigue that had got the better of me. Probably after three-quarters of a minute, the clock down the corridor struck 1 o’clock and a series of loud knocks followed. This time, perplexity got the better of me and I dragged myself to the door. With great caution, I opened it, just enough to peep and see who it was.
Not a soul! Were my own eyes deceiving me? All this couldn’t be a fleeting dream. Holding my sangfroid, I stepped out of the lonesome mansion, and walked into the garden. The ivory moon shone bright; however anxiety had crept into my whole being and nothing could set right my disturbed sanity. A malicious silence reined… not this couldn’t be! There was someone around, certainly there was.
A queer sort of terror ran down my spine. I dashed into the mansion, raced up the flight of steps and in a moment was in my room. My fear had cast a numbness on my mind. I knew not what to do. Didn’t mom warn me of weird mentally unsound people loitering about the neighborhood? What about those hair-raising ghosts and spirits in the book I was reading this afternoon? All I could do was hope for things to be all right, at least till mom returned. I pushed the cupboard to the door and bolted it tight.
The clock kept ticking – 2:30am… 3am… 4am… 4:30am.
Terror had driven slumber away and not for a quarter o an hour did I get the privilege of a sound sleep. As soon as the clock down the corridor struck 5, I sprang up from the bed and rushed to the maid’s room.
“Jenny! Somebody had knocked at the door last night,” I cried.
“When? Who on earth was it?” she asked with a great degree of surprise.
“Yeah! Who was it?” A child-like high pitched voice repeated after her much to my astonishment.
“Ronald! Go to sleep and stop harassing the lady,” jenny ordered with annoyance.
“Ronald?”
“My nephew- the one you met last year. He popped into my room last night. When I asked him how he got here, he giggled and crept into the other bed,” Jenny explained.
“Were you the dumb lady who never bothered to look down last night, after opening the door? You didn’t noticed me, so I had no other option but creep into the house, while you marched out into the garden like a terrifying ghost. How frightened I was!” he mocked with a grin.
“Me – a ghost!”
“Yes! And trust me, I was scared to death!”
“Till the last moment, I thought I was the one scared to death, under the misconception that you were the ghost!”
“Both better check their imagination,” Jenny muttered, while we gazed on.