Deaf Ghost

By Boobesh IR

My fingers were paining miserably yet I really enjoyed it. I am not a psychopath rather a musician who enjoys creating joyful melodies. I have been strumming the delicate strings of the guitar for years, but snippet piano is my newfound passion when I saw a beautiful lady playing it in a live concert.

I got completely consumed with my piano that my entire schedule after school was to learn from YouTube and play the tune in my piano. Every minute counted towards my mastery, but things donʼt go well always.

My dad, a man of responsibilities was displeased and disappointed with me since I left my chores undone and got completely consumed with the chords

and the rhythms of my piano. Every conversation turned into quarrels which we didnʼt expect.

“Ben, itʼs all about finding balance. Your piano shouldnʼt take over your entire day and worldˮ My dad would say. “Dad, this is what I love to do. Itʼs not the

equations and formulas I deal with in schoolˮ I would counter. Despite all these, my love for my piano grew, so did the divide between my dad and me. Words of hate echoed in my house than the words of love did.

Completely immersed in my piano, I saw my guitar in the corner, growing old

and dusty. It was the last gift from my mother who is no longer here, a piece of her which held memories of songs sung together, moments I would remember till my last breath.

One fine day, frustration boiled over. “Ben donʼt fill the house with unwanted

things. Since you never play your guitar now a days, itʼs time to throw that scrap out.ˮ My dad exclaimed. I was about to blow my top, “Dad, really? It is the last

gift from my mom. How can I throw it off like a scrap? ˮ With aching hearts, we both stood on the opposite ends, unwilling to compromise for each other.

The days rolled by my fingers never stopped from creating harmonious

melodies, while my dad continued to manage the problems of his business world. Finally, my friends pulled me out from my musical schedule to take my mind off from my piano for some time, but I was just immersed in talking about my musical ventures.

“Ben donʼt be like this, or else DEAF ghost is on his way to hunt youˮ said Jake cheekily. I thought it was a trick to just take me away from my obsession over piano, yet something provoked me, “DEAF ghost? Whatʼs that?ˮ

Jake leaned in, his voice changing to a husky tone. “Itʼs a local legend. People say that it is a spirit that visits every home in search of defective musical

instruments.ˮ

“Why would so?ˮ I asked with eyes filled with disbelief. “DEAF ghost is said to be a repairman during his days, but I have not much information about it.ˮ

Right then Paul interrupted, “I have heard that the DEAF ghost will damage our instruments the former night and repairs it the next day and takes one of our hands as reward.ˮ

Fear dipped into my heart, “Whatʼs the need of doing like thatˮ. Paul with unease and confusion said, “Even I donʼt know much about it. There is an old man who knows about it very well. Listen here! The worst part is if we fail to respond or open the door for him while he visits, he uses his power to bypass the door and death is for sure!ˮ

A shiver ran down my spine with my palm being sweaty than usual. I could hear my own heartbeat, my mind raced through the thoughts of the DEAF ghost. The thought of losing my ability to play, to lose a part of myself, was terrifying.

As the night worn on, my friends tried to calm me down by chattering about all nonsense stuffs, yet nothing could shake off the thought about the DEAF ghost from my mind. Finally, I bid farewell to my friends and walked home as the world around me grew dark and quiet. The only sound I could hear is the rustling of leaves in the gently breeze and of course, my heartbeat.

The clock struck 11, being cozy in my bed, I dared not to move away from this heavenly place but suddenly, a haunting melody began to drift through ears and strike my ears. It was the sound of my piano, but it was a melody I hadnʼt played before.

Being tired I decided not to bother too much because sometimes my dad would bump into my piano and examines what made me get obsessed over it. With a sense of unease, I convinced myself that it was another incident like that.

The next morning, when the sun cast its warm glow upon the world, I woke up with tiredness still killing me. As I came down the stairs, I looked at my dad who was into his newspaper. Right then, I remembered about the night event and

before I could start, my dad killed me with a heart ache.

“Ben, I canʼt tolerate this anymore. Why did you play the piano in that odd hour and spoil my sleep!ˮ exclaimed my dad with rage in his eyes. I stood there in bewilderment as the thought of DEAF ghost flashed before me. I didnʼt want to petrify my dad and give him an additional burden to carry. “Sorry dad, I just

checked whether I could remember the notes well.ˮ I replied anxiously.

“Make sure that this doesnʼt happen again. Understand your responsibilities and act according to it Ben!ˮ said my dad in a sharp tone. I just nodded my

head as I couldnʼt make words after the disturbing thought I had about the DEAF ghost.

My dad continued, “And Ben I am out for a business trip and the next two days you are going to be alone. Donʼt forget to do your chores and take care of

yourself well Ben.ˮ My dad who had packed his stuffs already departed by afternoon and I didnʼt dare to touch my piano due to his presence.

The tiredness in me was still haunting me down but not more that my mind

preoccupied with the thought of the DEAF Ghost. My tiredness took over me as I drowned into my dreamlands just after my dad departed.

I could barely open my eyes and only thing I could see was the darkness taking over the day. My fingers started to play the rhythm in air, and I knew itʼs my time to play the piano. I heart sank indulging the fear that ran through me, my breath went fainter and longer as I saw the very piano keys which I had touched with

love and care was damaged.

The tale of DEAF ghost just took all over me and I had no time to escape from this. When I called the service center, no one responded at this very moment. I was feeling all the negative emotions inside me and right then, I remembered about the old man my friend told.

With no further delay, I ran through the quiet streets. All were winding up their day and my heart was pounding as I was nearing the old manʼs house. Upon arrival, I found the old man seated in his worn-out armchair. His hair was

completely grey which symbolized the wisdom he had in him and also bringing a hope inside me. With a mixture of anxiety, I mustered the courage to speak.

I began hesitantly, “Excuse me. Iʼve heard that you are the person who knows all about the DEAF ghost. It just increased my curiosity as my friends were telling about it to me yesterday. Can you talk about it?ˮ

The old manʼs gaze met mine, a faint smile grazed over his face, and I tried my best to hide my real emotions. “Ah, the DEAF Ghost, itʼs a tale that has buried under the sands of our town which has been passed from generation to

generation.ˮ he said.

My anticipation levels were out of reach. “Please, I need to know more about it.ˮ I said immediately not wanting to waste my time.

The old man nodded; his eyes distant as he began to recount the haunting

narrative that sent chills down my spine. “Long ago, there was a man known as Mr. Repair who had the ability to fix any problems in any instruments just like

that. The town celebrated him, and his life was as perfect as his melody played

by his very own trumpet.ˮ He narrated.

He paused for a second squeezing his eyes off thinking of something which held him back, but he continued, “But fate was very cruel to him. One day,

robbers invaded his home. When he tried to protect the things he held dear, the robbers took his trumpet stroke on his head brutally, leaving him beaten and broken.ˮ

My breath stopped; I could feel the pain what he did feel on that day. “What happened to him?ˮ I asked, almost having no strength in my heart to hear the answer.

“Well… He survived, but at what cost? The blow left him deaf. He could no longer create his magic once he had. His health got worse as the days passed by like the moving clouds. He eventually died due to the brain complications due to the blow and the people of this town could possibly do nothing for him.ˮ he said almost holding his feelings back.

“Itʼs so pathetic for someone who had music as their life to die in a such of way, the worst way possible and is it the origin of his name? Since he went deaf, did he get the name DEAF ghost?ˮ I asked.

The old man gave me a laugh which made my legs shook, my heartbeat faster and make me go crazy. He said, “Well no. He used to damage the D, E and F keys of the instruments and his name in D-E-F ghost.ˮ

Before the old man could complete his sentence, I ran out dashing the things around me. The town has turned dark, the human lights took control over the town, but my brain was with its darkest thoughts. I ran to my home as fast as I can, hoping that the damaged keys should not be D, E and F.

As I opened my house door, my entire hope was shattered as I realized that fate had other plans with me. It was D, E and F were damaged coming me faint for the next two minutes. It was 8 in the night, and I knew I had some time to do something about this. My mind came up with different ideas to escape from this but somehow, I convinced myself to repair it with help of YouTube.

My luck it worked. After tedious work which took me nearly 2 hours, I finally

fixed those three keys with a sense relief in my heart. I went straight to my bed wanting not to waste any further time I have with me.

The clock struck at 11 again. I was waiting for the haunting tune to play again

but instead I heard knocks at my door. I tried my best to calm myself down and went towards the door taking small steps with caution. As I approached near

and near, I started to hear a slight melody played in trumpet which made me confirm that I am going to encounter the worst day of my life.

I quickly checked my piano keys, and they were as perfect as they could be. With a sense of relief, I took a deep breath and opened the door. There stood the so-called DEF ghost who was just like a normal human with a trumpet in his hand. He had no horrifying features, but his tale made me frightened when I

saw him.

“Are there any instruments I can repair?ˮ he said with a deep, threatening voice. Since everything was in perfect condition, I said a firm “NOˮ with full of confidence knowing that I can have no trouble because of him.

He gave a slight smirk which confused me, but the smirk turned into an evil laugh which made me almost made die out of terror. He pointed his index finger towards something inside my home which made him laugh like that. “What

about that?ˮ he said with that evil laugh in his face.

Dread settled heavily in my stomach. Everything around me went dark. I could feel no emotions except fear. As I followed his gaze, my heart sank as I realized what the DEF ghost was pointing to. It was my guitar lying in the corner with broken strings.

By Boobesh IR