It had been a harrowing week. My emotions were all over the place. Sleep had been either fitful or evasive. I was mentally, physically and emotionally drained. I felt like I had been "zombie-fied". To add to my misery my dog had been on tenterhooks. One angsty dog, one sleepless me, there was never a better combination. My nerves were completely on edge. My mind kept going in and out of dark places.

I had a slight distraction. I got to meet a friend and catch up over food. That's another thing. Eating and sleeping had been erratic. Meals had been frugal and reduced to one per day. Getting out of the house seemed like a sagacious notion. A change of scene might redirect the cognition processes to brighter things or the fact that I could have intellectual discussions spanning over an assortment of topics. The evening panned out well and I was home in perfect "Cinderella" time.

I made sure the dogs were well-fed and I went to lie down. I replied to a few texts and emails and drifted off to sleep. I had no idea that I had placed the cellphone on the side table. The big dog was his usual restless self. I was too fatigued to stay awake.

The mobile rang routing me from my sleep. Startled and disoriented I woke up, groggily reached out for the device and tried to figure out who the caller was. It was an unknown number. The dog started barking ferociously but I was too exhausted to go check. I spoke to the Night Caller instead. The man spoke in Hindi, a language I am not exactly inept with. He asked if he was speaking to "Char-Mine", half-asleep I corrected his pronunciation.

"I have a parcel for you, can I deliver it now?" he asked.

"Which courier comes so late?" I shot back in grammatically incorrect Hindi.

"No, it is a parcel from the UK, I have to deliver it urgently," he persisted.

"It can wait until the morning," my tone was grumpy.

"Your address, I need to deliver it now," he repeated sounding urgent.

"You come tomorrow," I snapped.

"But I have to deliver it now," he continued.

All this while my dog kept barking frantically. I paid no heed.

"I need your address," he reminded me.

"You can call me tomorrow and I will give it to you," I said.

"I will come at 9 a.m.," he said and cut the call.

Bewildered, I checked the time. It was 3.21 a.m. I checked my messages and emails since my sleep had already been interrupted and dozed off with my phone in my hand. I was woken up with the dogs clambering on the bed and settling down by my feet. Still knackered, I lazed in for a while. I wasn't sure if the Night Caller was a dream or a reality. I checked the call history and there was a call at 3.19 a.m.

There was a little more than an hour for nine o'clock. I dragged myself out of bed and walked the dogs. The morning was pleasant. There was a slight chill in the air indicating that winter is coming. I got goosebumps. A light mist hung over the fields. I led the dogs into the sunshine.

We headed back indoors, the wind had become slightly stronger. I heard the terrace door slamming. Now no one goes up there unless there's some work to be done. Shivers ran down my spine. The dog barked around the same time my phone rang. A series of unanswerable questions raced through my head. Was the Night Caller in the building and trying to see if I would open the door? Was my home being watched? Was the building being spied on? Was someone actually here? Why was the dog glued to the entrance? For someone who doesn't get easily fazed I began to freak out a little. The horror-author side of me saw a potential story which you are reading right now.

I decided to stay awake tonight to see if the call comes again, or there are anomalies in the neighbourhood. There usually are random boys whose ages range between seventeen to the late twenties who hang out at the dead-end to drink beers and smoke.

The slamming door remains a mystery to me.

I'm going to leave it up to you to decide whether this is fact or fiction.