‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ It feels like only yesterday that I was packing a few bags of clothes for my holiday at my granny’s... Just to be clear… I didn’t want to go there at all, if it hadn’t been for my mum, who couldn’t bear to see me, as she felt, not enjoying my holidays…
At first, I decided I wouldn’t write about this or tell anyone. Everyone would just laugh at me; they’d say I was paranoid, but one thing I know for sure: I didn’t imagine it; I’m convinced it happened. It’s a shame I don’t have anyone around who would believe me.
‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‎‎‎I didn’t even manage to text my mates to say I was going away for a while. Mum ordered me to pack my things and go to Granny’s, and told me to take a break from all this nonsense… Well… According to her, it’s nonsense (hopefully I’ll grow out of it one day). Just to be on the safe side, I’ve packed my headphones and MP3 player as well. Luckily, Mum didn’t have a problem with that. After all, she knew what it was like at Granny’s and that it isn’t exactly a lively place. She’s used to her landline and her favourite programmes on the telly. Granny lives quite a long way from our town, about 150 km, which is why we don’t see each other that often. I was glad to get a lift; after all, they wanted to see her after such a long time. We’re already approaching the little village where she lives. In my mind’s eye, I was picturing how I’d spend half my holidays at my grandma’s. I didn’t know what to make of it all. The only bright spot was that there were other young people there, around my age, so I wouldn’t just be stuck at home. Maybe I’d make some good friends here.
‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Before I knew it, we were standing in front of a house that had, by some chance, been preserved. In the end, I’ve got a good feeling about it; I’ll get a taste of life away from games and friends, and maybe I’ll learn something.. I’ve always wanted to learn to cook – my granny’s an expert at that, but let’s face it… who isn’t?
Whilst my parents are hugging my granny, I just say hello and head straight to my room, the one I’ve always been given.
Wait… I had to stop… On the table in the hall, I saw a newspaper published by the village where my granny lives. She probably hasn’t read it yet, because she wouldn’t have let me come to stay with her for the holidays if this had happened. As I can see, the paper is today’s edition. The front page reads ‘An inexplicable mystery in Varkov!’, which happened this week. With a rather serious look on my face, I walk into the room and, instead of unpacking, I read more about it. It specifically mentions a 14-year-old girl called Lucie. The reports state that the girl was supposed to have gone into the nearby local mountain at around two o’clock in the afternoon. Her mother reported her missing after she hadn’t returned home even after dinner.
‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎I didn’t want to get involved, but I became so engrossed in the article that I read it right to the end. Reports go on to state that, according to the information available to the police in such a short space of time – gathered mainly from sources close to her – the girl was last seen with her friend Denisa. They had agreed to go for a short walk together. CCTV cameras installed on the supermarket building near this hill recorded both girls entering it. Of course, I’d say there was nothing strange about that, and I reckoned that people go missing every day. However, further verified information came as a shock to me. The second girl had reportedly been at home all day. When the investigators wanted to verify this, they were aided by security cameras both inside and outside the house, which the girl’s family had installed some time ago. According to the footage, the girl had indeed not left the house, yet she was seen on the security cameras at the supermarket – a fact confirmed by the investigators, the girl’s family and even the girl herself. The girl’s clothing in the footage matched that of the real girl. Shortly afterwards, the police launched a search and closed off all access routes to the mountain.
I threw the newspaper away so that my granny wouldn’t worry unnecessarily; she’s getting on in years and I don’t want anything to happen to her. I started unpacking and, in the meantime, had a look around my room. It smelled lovely and was quite cosy. Mum and Dad had gone out, and I was left at home alone with my granny. As usual, there was loads of food on the table and I could tuck in. Granny had made chicken soup, spinach with egg, and mashed potatoes. I really enjoyed it. I’d been thinking about those news reports all day, even though I wanted to put them out of my mind. In the end, I asked my granny about that mountain. She’s one of the oldest residents in this village. “Why are you interested in that, Lukáško?” she asked curiously.
“I’ve heard that there are some lovely walks up there.”
There was a silence and Grandma stared down at the ground. I knew something wasn’t quite right. I asked her again. “What’s so interesting about that mountain?” She struggled to answer…
“You see…” I’ve lived here for over 60 years; I’ve lived here since I was born, and my parents left this house to me,’ she said slowly…
I was afraid she’d start talking about Grandad; she’d never come to terms with his death…
‘I had a very good friend; I was 17 and she was 16 – her name was Aria. We used to go out into the countryside regularly, we had fun, we were young back then... We enjoyed life, we didn’t worry about anything back then, and we paid the price for it. It’s hard for me to talk about this, and you might think I’m mad, but when my parents went off one day to help my grandmother, I decided to ring up my friends. Aria was one of them. We had different ways of having fun back then; we didn’t have computers or the internet, or whatever it’s called… We decided to have some fun, so we sat down in a circle and… I suggested we try to summon spirits. We had a Ouija board in the loft, and to this day I don’t know why we had it there. It was probably left behind by the previous owners of the house.
They weren’t really keen on the idea – their fear was all too obvious – but I put on a brave face, pretending I wasn’t afraid of anything, and that’s how I convinced the others too. We started with my former neighbour, who died twenty years ago in the war. I’d only heard about him from my parents, who used to live here and knew him. When the arrow moved, we started accusing each other of just wanting to scare us and that’s why we were moving it. Once everyone had honestly admitted they weren’t moving it, I couldn’t just sit back and watch either. After asking a few questions, we took the board up to the loft. Several of us went, because I was scared too. Nothing unusual happened. Terrified, everyone went home and left me on my own. I wasn’t angry, because that evening had been truly terrifying. You have no idea how scared I was, but somehow I fell asleep on the sofa in the living room. When I woke up, I noticed I had three scratches on my right elbow. I didn’t make a big deal of it and told myself I’d probably scratched myself the day before. I was scared to meet up with my friends all day. I hoped nobody would mention it. Suddenly my parents came home; luckily, I’d tidied up all the mess from yesterday and they didn’t notice a thing. What surprised me was that the first thing my parents said was that they could smell something that reminded them of our former neighbour. I thought I was just dreaming – after all, what had happened yesterday… It was nothing! Apparently, I was wrong. The next morning, the local police knocked on the door of our house. They wanted to speak to me. They told me that a missing person had been reported on the mountain you’re asking about. They mentioned one name… Aria. I immediately thought back to the day before yesterday, when we were summoning spirits. According to witnesses, other villagers had seen me entering the mountain with Aria yesterday afternoon. I denied all the accusations, and my parents stood up for me, saying I’d been at home all day and hadn’t left the house. However, according to several people, I’d been seen going up the mountain. I thought they were trying to cause me trouble. According to the family of my missing friend, I was supposed to have arranged with her an hour beforehand that we’d go out. It was a complete lie; I’d been at home the whole time and thought everyone was making things up or had simply lost their minds.. I didn’t understand a thing. Fortunately, my uncle held an important position in the police force and, thanks to him, all suspicions and accusations against me were dropped. Two weeks later, Aria was found dead at the entrance to the mountain. The mountain was closed off for a full 30 years. Later, the new village mayor reopened it, hoping the situation wouldn’t happen again. The village mayor, who was in office during the incident, covered up the whole affair and claimed it was a suicide. In reality, according to information from my uncle, it was not a suicide, but a violent killing and mutilation of the body. However, this could not be made public, as nobody wanted the village to be given a bad name. I will blame myself for the rest of my life, thinking it was all because of me and my curiosity about spiritual matters… To this day, I cannot explain how the local residents could have seen me going up that mountain when I was at home the whole time!”
‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ I let my grandmother rest, but at the same time I was aware that the events of 60 years ago had repeated themselves. Is it some sort of demon that mimics people? I’ve always been interested in these things myself, and if it hadn’t been for my grandmother and her experience with her friend, and the newspaper article describing a very similar situation, I’d probably have tried the same thing. The question is, which of my loved ones would have died then?


To be continued next time...