Knock. Knock.
It was a soft and slow sound, seemed like it held unspoken truths, haunting but strangely beautiful. What I didn’t realize was that this soft, eerie sound came with a secret which was going to change my life forever.
It was a peaceful evening. The soft patter of rain against the windows came like distant whispers. The cool air brushed against my face as I stepped out a hot shower. The world outside of the window, calm and silent, was blurry because of the thick fog curling in the air. The earthy scent of the wet soil brushed against my nose. I sat down on my soft, comforting couch, looking forward to rest after such a long, tiring day at the office.
Then a soft, almost inaudible sound broke the silence.
Knock. Knock.
Who can it be, at this time, while it’s raining outside?? I wondered. I rose from the couch slowly. The soft padding of my bare feet barely made any sound against the cold wooden floor. The nervous intriguing curiosity rising in my chest with each deliberate step. My hand rested on the cold door knob. I should not open the door. I thought. But, then before I can even process, my hand turned the door knob and opened the door.
Infront of me stood a man in his early 30s. He stood in a crisp black suit. His tall frame towering mine. His dark hair was slicked back, sending an unsettling feeling in my chest. His dark grey eyes were a void of warmth, piercing through my soul, sending shivers down my spine. His lips pressed in a thin line of calculated silence. The scent of his expensive perfume brushed my nose. His expression was unreadable, haunting yet beautiful. The sharp features of his face only deepened his calm yet wild presence.
But there was something haunting familiar about the way he looked at me.
It was raining outside, but strangely there wasn’t a single drop of water on his hair or face. His suit wasn’t damp or wet but completely dry. Strange. I thought.
The world seemed to stop when my eyes locked with his. There was no sound except for the soft pattering of the rain. Then after what seemed like an eternity, his voice broke the silence.
‘Are you Evangeline Blackwood?’, he said, his voice sharp and calm yet with an edge of authority, his tone unreadable.
‘…Yes’, I said, my voice cracking with the nervous fascination. My mind yelled at me to close the door at this strange seeming man and run towards my bedroom, but heart won’t let me do it. Fear and curiosity rose in my chest, but my curiosity took the best of me.
‘Am… I not welcomed?’, his voice sliced through the air like a knife in ice. His tone never leaving its edge of authority.
There was an awkward silence between us. I broke the silence by saying, ‘Of course, please make yourself feel at home’. My voice showing a sense of curiosity laced with fear. I stepped aside from the door, to let him in.
Thud. Thud. The sound of his boots echoing through my eerily silent house. While mind told me to keep of out of this seemingly dangerous situation, my heart wanted to know more about this mysterious man. And, I followed my heart.
‘Please sit here’, I said, gestured towards my couch. He nodded once and sat down on my couch with same clam silence he carries around with himself. His movements were calculated as if he has planned his moves years ago.
‘Excuse me’, I said as my legs slipped towards the kitchen. I took the glass from the shelf barely making any sound. My thoughts were conflicted, ethereal but with an edge.
Who’s he? What is he doing here? What do he want from me? What if it’s some kind of opportunity for me? But, what if he’s here to hurt me? But, what possibly bad can happen? But he seems quite scary and dangerous? But his presence is darkly enchanting. I wondered.
But the strangest thing was that why did this person feel familiar in a scary way.
My mind was fogged with the thoughts. Drip. Drip. The glass was filled with water. My thoughts snapped back to the reality. I left the kitchen and returned to my living room which was still thick with tension. The stranger was still there, at my couch, with an unreadable expression.
I handed him the glass. ‘…Thanks’, he muttered under his breath, his voice still cold and emotionless. He took a sip from the glass and set it aside on the table with a soft clink. The silence which followed was calm and intriguing at the same time. The tension still lingered in the air.
‘So, who are you?’, I broke the silence, no longer able to silence my curiosity. There was a pause. A breath. A sigh.
‘I am Evander’, he said, his voice laced with a softly terrifying edge.
‘Do you know who am I?’, his voice echoed once again in my house. Evander, who’s that. I don’t know anyone with that name. I thought. ‘No’, I responded, my chest heavy with curiosity with fear.
‘Hmm, I knew’, he said with a flicker on understanding in his stoic, expressionless face. The silence that followed was awkward. The tension, now filled with an unknown familiarity and curiosity, lingered in the air.
My mind raced with thoughts. Do I know him? Did I see him anywhere? Have I met him anywhere? Is he any of my childhood friend? Who exactly is he?
I came back to present with a sudden movement. Evander rose from the couch sharply. Fear coming across my face but never leaving behind the flicker of curiosity. He walked towards me and stopped right in front of me. There was a pause of silence between us. I could hear the sound of his breathing. My own breathing was uneven due to the elegantly unsettling feeling in my heart.
Suddenly, his hand came and rested to my head. I could feel the weight of his large hands on my head. His fingers slightly tangled in my hair. The touch felt strangely familiar and comforting.
‘I hope you knew me, Eva’, he said, his face still stoic and unreadable but there was a flicker of something in his dark gaze. Something dangerously close to……… affection.
Eva? No one has called me ‘Eva’ other than my parents. I thought.
I opened my mouth to say something, but words never came. I didn’t know what to say. Was I confused, thrilled or simply fascinated? I didn’t know.
I was ripped back to reality when Evander lifted his hand off my head.
‘I think this isn’t the right time’, he said, his voice still held an edge of authority but there was a flicker of sadness in his tone. With that said, he turned his back towards me.
Thud. Thud. His boots echoed against the cold wooden floor as he walked towards the door. His movements, slow and deliberate. Then, he paused. ‘See you again next time, Eva’ he said, his voice strangely softer now, as he walked out of the door he came in.
I stood there frozen. I didn’t realize how much time it’s been.
The rain was still pattering against the windows. My house was still silent. The world was still going on. The time was still moving. But the only thing which changed was that-
I was left with a mystery to solve alone.
My mind raced. My heart thudded against my ribs.
Who’s he? How does he know me? Why did he call me ‘Eva’? Why did he feel so familiar? What did he mean by ‘this isn’t the right time’?
I wasn’t able to think properly.
How would I find that man again? Where would I find him? What should I say to him? What to do? What to do? What to do?
My mind was clouded with these thoughts.
I ran towards my late father’s bedroom, expecting to find some comfort.
I unlocked the door with a soft click. I walked towards the bed but stopped in my path. Because something caught my eye. A box. Ancient, wooden, brown.
I’ve never seen this box before. I thought.
I walked towards the small, mysterious box and picked it up. I felt the weight of this small box on my hands, as if an unspoken truth lingered in the air.
I opened the box with a soft clink. Tears pricked my eyes as I saw what was in the box.
Photographs. Of my dad. Smiling, some silly, some candid. My memories with him flooded back in my mind. I observed each photo with a sad happiness. Until, my eyes caught something again.
There was an envelope in the box. Old, dark. Curiosity got the better of me. I opened the envelope. In it, there was a letter. Old, full of dust but with an elegant handwriting on it. It was my dad’s handwriting.
It was written on the letter that:
Dear, Eva
I wanted to tell you a truth. I didn’t give this letter to you before because I thought you would find it when the right time comes. So, actually you have a brother. I can’t tell you why me and your mom hid this truth and the only thing I can tell you is that you have a brother.
I hope you don’t feel deceived, my dear Eva.
Love,
Your dad.
My eyes widened when I read the letter. Then, I found a photo too in the envelope. The photo was of a young man. And, he looked exactly like the man I met today.
Evander was my brother? Why didn’t he meet me before? Why did they hide this truth? I can’t believe.
My mind was clouded with all these thoughts. Then the thought struck me once again-
Where will I find him? I wondered again.
My mind was racing. My chest was heavy with unspoken emotions. Tears were streaming down my face uncontrollably. Both from surprise and the relief of knowing that I still had someone I can love, I can trust.
But the problem was, where would I find him. The question lingered in the air.
And, just when I was about to lose my hope. The sound came again. This time slower, softer.
Knock. Knock.
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