Chapter 1

I’m (M52) living in the east end of Pennsylvania for a while now. It has been ten years since the war ended, and ever since I got shot in the thigh, I’ve had to move around in a wheel chair. Till 6 months ago, I lived in a high rise apartment, but my son had me move into another house, because his wife needed privacy. Sometimes, you can never tell what children want. Money? Privacy? Freedom? Not like he married the girl I wanted. I’m sorry for going on a tangent here.

I moved slightly away from town, into a smaller home with just one floor. It was quite an old model – even old for me. And to be fair, the cheap rent didn’t hurt. The walls were of cheap white wallpaper with floral designs. The building had only yellow fluorescent lights everywhere. The carpets seemed rough but I can make it work if I wore home slippers. Overall, it was good.

That was when I met her for the first time. Carol. I assumed a person in her mid forties, to be working as my maid. She had this comforting smile, and calming presence. It was like it was radiating off of her. “Great” I thought to myself. At least my son didn’t completely abandon me.

Slowly I noticed a few patterns with Carol. Initially, things were going fine. She would come home everyday at 7 AM. She would sweep the house and mop the floors. Then she would cook my breakfast and lunch and leave by 11 AM. Then she would show up from 5 PM to 9 PM to help me with washing vessels, making dinner, laundry etc. And when asked about emergency calls in the middle of the night, I was told that Carol lived in a house in my street and I could call her anytime for assistance.

A month after I moved in (5 months ago) I had my first cardiac arrest at night. I woke up in a cold sweat as I felt by whole body tighten up. I chocked and gasped for air, frantically swinging my limbs to get my phone. That’s when I saw her. Carol. Or at least, something similar to Carol. She was standing in the further most corner of the room, completely still. She didn’t even breathe. I could see a part of her face illuminated by the moonlight. This couldn’t be her. this was the opposite of the calming presence she has. It was like she was there to strike terror in me. Her eyes were slightly off and asymmetrical. Her smile was almost too wide, seemingly painful as her cheeks continuously twitched. Droplets of her sweat shone bright in the moonlight. God knows how long she’s been there?

I passed out. I woke up to sunlight, and there was some sound in the kitchen. It was her. “Had good dreams, old man? You seemed to have slept sound” she chuckled to herself as she laid my breakfast on the dining table. I was furious. Did she think of this as a joke? I confronted her. “Sir, I was with my kids-“ she explained. There was some truth to her eyes and maybe, it was something else, trying to be Carol. I ended up not telling anyone about the cardiac arrest, and instead I googled this incident up. Apparently it could’ve been a sleep paralysis demon or a skinwalker.

The patterns became more and more evident. Carol slowly showed signs of the unhinged. She would often stand in rooms or pathways and just stare at me. Sometimes I’d feel it. I’d get chills. Sometimes she never leaves at 11 and stays hidden in the house somewhere till 6. I try to find her, but I never can. It’s almost like she lives in the walls and it is freaking me out. She keeps asking me what I’ll do in a cold winter when the wolves come out? And it also seems like she doesn’t leave home at night. I sometimes hear footsteps at night outside my bedroom. And when I wake up, the vegetables are always cut.

Four months ago, I confronted her again, about this. And I hoped that she would beg for forgiveness like she did last time. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. She was cutting vegetables as I confronted her about her nonsense behaviour, and how I’ll report her to authorities if she continued this behaviour. She continued cutting her veggies as if nothing happened. I started yelling at her to listen, and it soon started to be small screams. She stopped cutting. She slightly turned to her left and I could see the smile from the corner of her face. “They’ll NEVER believe you!” she exclaimed, almost child like as she chuckled quietly.

That’s when I heard knocking on the main door. Carol, as if nothing has happened, walked upto the front door and opens it, making a worrying face. The neighbours rushed in, asking if things got okay. And that was when I realised that I am now the hysterical one in their eyes. She smiled. She fucking smiled at me.

I’ve tried telling my son multiple times. And my neighbours. No one seems to listen. Apparently, she has a review of five stars and is a great maid. Things have gotten pretty out of hand at this point. She would often scare me hiding in closets and machines. She would sometimes go days without cooking to torment me. I would hear weeps often, from the other side of the room. I know she’s outside when I shower. I can just feel it. I can’t sleep, with her footsteps being heard at odd intervals outside my bedroom. And the stink. A stink originated from the walls last month and I don’t know what it is. I’m afraid to check and my condition has only gotten worse.

Carol barely feeds me anymore. I am disabled and I cannot leave. I’ve suffered a few panic attacks in the last few weeks and everyone thinks I am hysterical. I feel completely isolated and alone. I am writing this here in hopes of help or solution, as she doesn’t grip the idea of the internet. I just wish to have died in the war. This is hell. Thank you for your patience to read through this, and kindly do the needful.