“Wh… Why?” she stumbled.
“She wanted didi. I told her I don't know when she'll be coming from school and she started slapping me. It hurt, mamma,” Ajit said, rubbing away his tears.
Mrs. Bajaj wiped the sweat of her forehead and leaned in closer to her son.
“Do you see her with didi often?” she asked, almost in a whisper.
“Every night she used to come to our room and they used to sit together, chatting and playing. But since didistarted going out, she doesn't talk and play much. She gets tired, she tells her. So she gets angry and fights with didi,” Ajit narrated.
“C… can you see her?” Mrs. Bajaj asked in a dry voice.
Ajit nodded slowly.
“Is… is she here now?”
Slowly, Ajit turned his head and looked towards the kitchen, staring at it for just a trifle bit longer.
“What do you want?” Mrs. Bajaj shouted getting on her feet, taking Ajit in her arms.
“Why the hell are you troubling us?” she asked the walls where Ajit was staring.
“Why don't you just go away from here and leave us in peace?” she shouted again, feeling Ajit squirm in her arms.
At that instant, the kitchen door banged shut with a loud thud, making her jump back. The very next second, the door bell rang, startling her. She rushed towards the door and peeped in through the door hole. There was no one outside. Clutching her throbbing head, she waked back when the doorbell rang again. Twice. She asked Ajit to stay close to her and walked slowly towards the door again. She opened the door warily, almost expecting someone to jump on her only to find her tired husband standing there with their daughter who was adjusting her shoelaces. They stepped inside and Mr. Bajaj was about to say something when upon witnessing the state his wife was in, he placed a consoling hand on her shoulder.
“Ayushee, go to your room and take your brother along,” Mr. Bajaj said.
“No!” Mrs. Bajaj shouted. “They'll be here with us.”
“Why?” Mr. Bajaj asked surprised.
“I'll explain later,” she replied, looking towards the kitchen again.
Her husband merely shrugged.
“I had gone to the hospital to see her body. The doctors say the locals found her hanging from the banyan tree. The reports confirm it,” Mr. Bajaj said in a low tone so that only she could hear.
“No!” Mrs. Bajaj screamed.
“Pooja, don't shout. You'll scare the children. I met a police inspector there. He might come to record your statement or might call you to the station tomorrow. Just relax,” Mr. Bajaj said.
“We've to leave this house as soon as possible,” Mrs. Bajaj said in a dreamy-voice.
“Don't be ridiculous. The police will find out who did that to the poor woman,” Mr. Bajaj reasoned.
“It's not something the police can solve,” Mrs. Bajaj argued.
“What do you mean?” Mr. Bajaj asked with a frown.
“This house is haunted by the spirit of a girl that can harm our kids,” Mrs. Bajaj spoke fast.
“What the hell are you talking?” Mr. Bajaj shouted.
“I saw it. I saw it with my own eyes… no, not the girl but… Ajit, our Ajit was bobbing up and down the bed and some invisible force had been slapping him left and right. See, see the marks on his cheeks,” Mrs. Bajaj said, her body shaking again.
“Pooja, you have been hallucinating due to the shock of Kanta's death. Calm down. I assure you everything will be fine,” Mr. Bajaj promised.
“No, look… look!” Mrs. Bajaj said, taking her husband by his hands to the couch in the living room where Ajit was seated.
“Pooja, are you crazy? You did this to him?” Mr. Bajaj said, inspecting his son's skin.
“No! You think, I'll hit my own blood in that manner… Ajit, tell papa. Tell him, who did that to you,” Mrs. Bajaj turned to the little boy, a maniacal look on her face.
He simply stared at his mother in a state of shock.
“Tell him, tell him now!” Mrs. Bajaj shook him hard by the shoulder.
“Pooja!” Mr. Bajaj pulled her back.
She shrugged off his hold and ran towards Ayushee, who was standing meekly behind the couch looking at them fight it out.
“Ayushee, tell your papa. Tell him about your friend… your friend… what was her name? God, I forgot… Why don't you open your mouth now?” Mrs. Bajaj screamed in her daughter's face.
“Pooja, enough is enough!” Mr. Bajaj pulled her back again, this time in a rough way. “I won't have my kids being slapped around and their ears filled with cock and bull tales. You go to our room now! Tomorrow, I'll take you to the police station to record your statement. In the current scenario, it is best if the inspector doesn't see the madness in our house.”