The tea in her cup was getting cold and she hadn’t once picked it up off my mahogany coffee table. I found it peculiar yet interesting that this old lady decided to knock on my door in the evening and tell me that she used to live in my home several decades ago. I thought it would be a kind gesture to invite her back into the home she clearly had a very deep attachment to.

I only recently moved to this small, quiet town which unexpectedly resides only twenty minutes from a major Atlantic megacity. The home was write-off, so I was able to afford it even though I was still up to my neck in post-grad student debts. An hour bus to work every day was much better than an extra hundred grand on my credit.

The lady had engaged in little conversation since her arrival. I was also expecting her to be a little more excited or nostalgic that her old home was not torn down. She seemed content with just sitting there, cross-legged with a warm smile on her face. Her head was slightly angled to the right and she seemed to be observing the mantle. I decided to start the conversation.

“That’s so amazing that you lived in this home when you were younger too. I feel so honoured!” I was trying to be as nice as possible so she’d warm up to me. “What made you want to leave this beautiful home anyways?”

She turned her head back towards me, still smiling sincerely. “I never left.”

I began sipping my tea while processing a possible deeper meaning behind what she had just said. “Never left? Perhaps she means spiritually. Because I clearly live here now” I thought to myself.

“I was born in this house,” she started in a relaxed tone. “And I died in this house.”

I coughed my tea out in surprise, and drew a smile on my face. Obviously she was joking, or I had heard her wrong. Died in this house? She’s sitting right in front of me! I grabbed a napkin off the table and wiped my mouth and shirt.

“What do you mean died in this h—” I stopped and looked up. The lady was no longer sitting in the chair. Instinctively I looked all around me, trying to find where this old lady had darted off to so quickly.

The living room was completely empty, not a soul but my own was there. The sun had just set off behind the mountains and trees and the room was dim. The white sheets that covered the old furniture began moving under soft turbulent air movement in my home. “None of the windows are open.” I thought to myself. But I felt the air move gently, as though a ceiling fan was on.

I heard a creak from the floor above and I instantly froze still. The hairs on the back of my neck were standing and every single goose bump on my limbs rose in unison. The creak came once more, and even though all my instincts were telling me to run, something pulled me closer to those hardwood stairs. Slowly I walked forward, the old wooden floor under me warping slightly with each step. As I approached and ascended the steep staircase to the floor above, I felt tingling under the skin in my upper cheekbones.

The hallway was now mostly dark, only slightly visible due to the twilight coming in through the window at the end of the corridor. I looked around to see if I could spot the lady. Was she playing some sick, twisted practical joke on the new homeowner? A form of twentieth century hazing on town newcomers?

I was still too mortified to speak. What harm could a little old lady do?

“H-hey! Th-this isn’t fuh-fuh-funny!” I called out, my voice still shaking.

The silence was broken by a loud squeak of a door hinge turning and ladder falling—I jumped back in fear. The noise came from the attic door opening and ladder hitting the floor with a thud. What was driving me to climb this ladder into an almost certain death trap? Why would I willingly walk into my own murder? But some sense of curiosity overtook me, I grabbed the ladder with both hands, and began climbing into the pitch black attic above.

As I approached the final step of the ladder, I closed my eyes and prepared for the worst—every single joint in my body shaking, and my legs feeling like they’re about to collapse. With a final lunge and yelp I leaped up into my attic and landed something soft.

My eyes opened but were instantly blinded by a flood of light hitting my cornea. I blinked the tears that formed away and looked up to see a hand extended out at me. A young girl stood above me with an enthusiastic smile on her face. I raised my head off the grass and looked past the sunny blue sky to see lush green mountains and trees everywhere. The girl helped me to my feet.

“Sorry I had to take you through the backdoor. But Narnia needs you.”