The Weight of Midnight

It all began at midnight. You know, that type of night where even the air seems strange, too quiet, too motionless. Like something is observing. The wedding was a week hence. Everybody was fatigued, and everybody was asleep.

Except Hamza.

I heard the steps, quick but quiet. I walked into the hallway and caught him — hoodie up, shoes in his hand, attempting to slip out. Where was he going? It wasn’t solely sus… it was all wrong. Like something was dragging him out.

Then there was her tone — Anaya. Fierce and wild like thunder on a still sky.

“Where do you think you are going?”

Hamza froze. “It’s midnight and you’re going out?!” she yelled.

With absolutely no fear in his voice, Hamza said, “Can’t you just mind your own business?”

It was about to be a full-fledged drama when I intervened.

“Let him go,” I said with a peaceful voice.

Anaya glared at me as if I’d gone mad. “Huzaifa, you’re coddling him!”

“Let him go,” I said once more. “I’ll deal with the wedding arrangements.”

Umaima screamed from her room, “Huzaifa bhai, in case anything goes wrong, we’re coming after you!”

I remained quiet. I merely let Hamza fade into the darkness.

But there was something about that moment… it wasn’t right. It felt like the darkness engulfed him.

The next day was chaos.

Decorators were late. The mehendi artist cancelled. Cousins showed up unannounced. I managed all. Everyone kept yelling “Huzaifa bhai this,” “Huzaifa bhai that.” I just kept fixing everything as I always do.

But something else was annoying me.

Hamza had come back early morning. But he was silent. Eyes red, not because of sleep. Because of fear. That kid, who never remains quiet, was not speaking a word.

He didn’t even quarrel with Anaya.

I sensed something went wrong that night. I could sense it. But I haven’t asked yet.

Two nights later, I saw him sitting in the lounge. Lights off. Just staring at the wall.

“You’re okay?” I asked.

He nodded slowly. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

He hesitated, then shook his head. “Nothing.”

But his voice was not steady.

He seemed like someone who witnessed something he couldn’t describe.

That’s when I knew. It was no ordinary outing.

The evening of the wedding day, I was in my room, running over the list. My phone vibrated. I didn’t know the number.

I picked up.

Static.

Then, a whisper.

“Bhai… something followed me back.”

I was still.

“What?”

The voice returned — Hamza’s voice.

“I shouldn’t have gone there. It wasn’t a normal place.”

Then nothing.

I tried to call back. Nothing.

Cold shivers ran down my spine. I peeked out my window. Just darkness. But for some reason, I didn’t feel like we were alone.

Anaya entered the room.

“You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

I said nothing. I couldn’t. My heart pounded.

She sat next to me and took my hand. “No matter what it is, you’ve got this. You always do.”

I nodded, but I didn’t believe her.

I didn’t sleep that night.

And I wasn’t alone.

I could hear Hamza walking up and down the hallway. Stopped right outside my door. Just stood there for about five minutes.

And then I heard him whisper something… but not in his natural voice.

Like someone else was talking through him.

The day of the wedding arrived. Everything seemed perfect on the outside. Guests were laughing, music was playing, and food was being served.

But Hamza remained silent the entire time. Wouldn’t eat. Wouldn’t smile.

Once Anaya departed, I discovered him sitting by himself close to the gate.

“You okay now?”

He finally uttered something.

“There’s something in the house.”

I nervously laughed. “Don’t be funny now, man.”

“I’m not being funny,” he replied.

“I went to the graveyard behind the rail track on the night before. Just to prove a point to my friends.”

“I went there and got something… just a dumb rock. But since then, I hear whispers. And last night… I saw it standing at the foot of my bed.”

I didn’t have a clue what to say. We just sat there in silence. Cold silence.

So yeah, if it wasn’t for wedding drama or if it wasn’t for sibling drama, then this story is about the fact that sometimes, even the people who are closest to you can be hiding something dark. Something they can’t explain.

It’s about how I was trying to hold the house together while something intangible was trying to rip it apart.

And now?

Now I’m just waiting for whatever Hamza brought home… to reappear.

Because deep down, I know —

It never left.

– This horror piece is conceived by “Huzaifa”