Forget Me Not

Chapter Six

“DON’T scare me like that, Gilbert,” Brennen said angrily to his friend on the phone.

“Dre, believe me. I saw what I saw,” his friend said with each word spoken intensely on the phone. Fear was evident in his voice.

Brennen hasn’t spoken for a long time. Fear returns to him whenever he remembers what he saw on his cellphone, which he still hasn’t fixed until now. It was like he no longer had any intention of getting it fixed.

Yes, that’s what he told himself exactly. He saw what he saw, and it wasn’t just an illusion.

“Do you know?” he questioned him and left it hanging. “About what?”

“I don’t want to add to your fear... but...”

“But what?”

“What my aunt said earlier. It’s considered bad luck if you encounter or see a funeral carriage. It’s a superstition.”

“Why do they say so? What does that mean?”

“It might be your turn to ride the hearse next.”

“You’re crazy, bro!” Gilbert almost shouted. He momentarily moved his ear away from the phone. “I’m not joking.”

“I’m not joking either,” he emphasized. “I know you’re scared. And yes, I’ll admit that I’m scared too. This is the first time I’ve felt this kind of fear. It’s different from the fear I feel when watching a horror movie. This feeling is real.”

“I wonder what’s happening to us, man?” Gilbert suddenly asked with a serious tone.

“What do you mean?”

“Since we visited Melissa’s wake... everything seems to be going wrong. Do you remember what the old lady who was sweeping said before we left?”

Brennen let out a deep heavy sigh.

He agreed with it. “Brennen? What if—”

“Don’t dwell on that,” he quickly interrupted, already knowing what his friend wanted to say. “Maybe... perhaps...” The truth was, he didn’t know what to say either. He couldn’t come up with an explanation for the series of strange occurrences they were experiencing as friends.

“I remember now. It’s Kate.”

“Yeah, what about?”

“I’m sure something happened to her too. She just doesn’t want to talk about it. Do you remember when she suddenly screamed?”

“She looked really scared, right—” He was cut off as there were three consecutive knocks on his room’s door.

“Hey, what?” Gilbert asked, noticing the sudden silence from him.

Brennen tightened his grip on the phone. “There was a knock on my room’s door.”

“I thought it was something else,” Gilbert replied.

“Gilbert...” He swallowed hard, fear suddenly enveloping his entire body. It felt like an icy chill ran down his spine, causing him to shiver.

“What?”

“I am the only one at home right now. Just me. Mommy and Daddy and my siblings left earlier—” he almost jumped from where he was standing when there were three consecutive knocks on the door.

“Brennen, are you still there?”

“Yes,” he replied, catching his breath with great difficulty. “Please don’t hang up the phone just yet, please...”

“Dude, I can’t hear you anymore... are you okay?”

That was the last thing he heard from Gilbert before the line suddenly went dead.

He feels like his position is shaking due to his excessive trembling because of fear. Suddenly, the coldness in the surroundings became strange. He slowly returned the extension phone to the bed table. Afterward, he quickly got back on his bed and covered himself with a blanket. He closed his eyes tightly and started to pray passionately.

While he was praying, the knocking on his room’s door was getting louder.

The knocks grew more forceful, each one rattling the door with a rhythmic, almost deliberate insistence that made the walls tremble. Brennen’s heart was pounding so loudly he was sure it could be heard from outside. He pulled the blanket tighter around himself, as if it could shield him from the unseen force that sought entry. A sudden coldness crept up from his feet, as though ice water had been poured over him, chilling him to the bone.

He tried to remind himself that it was probably nothing—a prank, maybe, or just his imagination—but the way the air in the room had changed, thick and heavy like a curtain of fear, made him doubt every rational thought. Even his own breathing sounded foreign to him, too shallow and too rapid. He wished he could call Gilbert back, but the phone felt like a lifeless object now, disconnected from any sense of comfort.

Brennen’s mind flashed back to the old woman sweeping outside Melissa’s wake, her cryptic words echoing in his ears like a warning he didn’t want to heed: “Don’t let the dead follow you home.” He hadn’t taken her seriously then, brushing off her trembling voice as superstition. But now, with every knock, he wondered if he had unknowingly invited something back with him. Something that didn’t belong to this world.

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to focus on his prayer, but the knocking grew even louder, so forceful now that the door trembled in its frame. He felt like something—or someone—was standing on the other side, its presence undeniable, pressing against the thin barrier between them. The air was so cold now that his breath came out in small clouds. With each exhale, he silently pleaded, “Please, God, protect me.” But deep down, he feared that whatever was outside might already be inside.