The Railway Road

This is my first story here and it all happened when I was very little at about 9-10 years old. At that time, my father used to work as a craftsman and used to get home late at night. I do not remember much since I was very little at that time and now I am 20 years old.

Back to my story:

My father used to get home late between 2 am to 3 am. At that time my mum and I would often wait for him to get home and sometimes, I would stay up late and wait along with my mum too.

Well, it is very important to tell you people that I actually had two ways which could lead someone to my house. One way was the main road, which was safe but was time-consuming as it was a long enough to travel along and the other way was a street which was known as the 'railway road' (it's called like this because long ago there used to have trains occupying that road, but now it still holds the name of 'railway' even though there's no train there).

At that time, my father would use the 'railway road' instead of the main road which was long and tiresome to get back home, but the main road was still safe though, whereas the 'railway road' was a haunted. It was dark and had no streetlights. It almost looked like a deserted place where people wouldn't dare to walk late at night. It was a very fearful place, people would always complain of hearing voices and also feeling the presence of someone watching and following them, some say that they even hear footsteps, but when they would turn around and see, they would find nobody around.

My father never believed in supernatural stuffs though. He would always say that these things were only rumours. So, without fear, he would always use that haunted street to get home but when he does so, every nights, he would start having nightmares and would wake up in his sleep and would start talking to the door. Every nights when my mother would wake up, she would find him sitting on the floor and facing the door and talking to it.

The creepiest and scariest thing was that he would blabber in an unknown language that my mum could not discern. My mum then would shake him up asking him to wake up. Once his sleep was broken, he wouldn't seem to know what he was behaving like; he didn't even know that he was talking to the door. It was like whatever that 'thing' was, it would leave him after his sleep was broken up.

My mum kept telling him of not using that haunted street to get home but my father kept ignoring her. However, he told my mom that every times when he would travel on that street, he would feel like he was carrying something or bringing someone with him at home and when he would step in the house, he would feel as if someone or something also was accompanying him. We never knew what it was.

Gladly, my father left the job and never had to travel through that street again. As we say all's well that ends well. Hope you enjoy my story guys! Thanks a lot for reading! All the comments will be appreciated. Thanks again.