Strange Footprints

Cheryl's ears twitched slightly. Perhaps she had made a mistake? How was it possible? Cheryl focused her deep brown eyes on the digital clock that lay by her bedside. The numerals appeared in lemon green, '2:32'. 'Shit! It still early,' Cheryl sighed. Then she frowned. 'So what had caused the noise?' Her mind seemed to torture her with questions. There it was again. She heard it distinctly. She waited, sitting up in her bed. Within a brief five minutes or so, the noise had disappeared. It had sounded like someone was cooking in the kitchen downstairs, pots banging against each other now and then. It was not the first time that night that Cheryl had heard those sounds. The same thing happened every night since her family moved into the new house.

Cheryl had just survived yet another strange night. This time, she had gone into the kitchen to check the sounds out. The moment she flipped on the kitchen light, the sounds of pots banging against each other disappeared. Puzzled, she went back into bed, but sleep eluded her. 'Cheryl dear, can you come down and do me a small favour? I have to stitch this button onto your Pa's shirt but I am busy. Come down dear. Her mother's voice echoed into her room. 'Wonder what Ma wants this time?' She thought as she went down the steps, skipping two steps each time. Her mother was seated at the sofa, frantically stitching a button onto her father's shirt. 'Husbands they also seem to be the first priority of Asian women. In future, my husband can sew his own buttons,' she grumbled softly as she approached her mother.

'Yes. Ma?' Cheryl asked. 'Cheryl, please help me to pass the plate of flour on the dinner table to the Tengs next door, girl. They need it for some occasion. Please do it now, girl, I think they are expecting us,' her mother said. 'Okay,' Cheryl nodded and ran to the dining table to grabbed the plate of gluten flour. Cheryl had to rush because she had an appointment with a friend in half an hour's time. She had to come back in five minutes to get ready or she would never make it in time. Running to the front door, Cheryl did not notice the stool blocking her way and tripped over it. 'Ahh! Ouch!' Cheryl fell onto the floor, hurting her right elbow. All the gluten flour had scattered all over the floor. 'Damn it. I'll get something to clean up the mess,' Cheryl cursed silently, knowing that she would surely be late. 

'Ma!' Cheryl yelled, drawing her mother to the kitchen. 'Did you walk on the flour while I was fetching the broom?' 'No. I was in the living room all this while. Anyway, I did not know you spilled the flour.' 'Look!' Cheryl pointed to the floor. 'There are footprints on the gluten flour.' As they looked, more footprints appeared on the flour, moving towards the kitchen table. The broom, lying against the kitchen table had began to move on its own. As Cheryl and her mother looked on in horror, the broom swept the floor. Cheryl screamed first, followed by her mother. Terrified, they both ran out of the house. The whole family spent the next few nights in a hotel. Both Cheryl and her mother refused to go back to the house. Left with no choice, her father soon sold the house off. They later found out that a foreign maid used to work in the house. One day, the poor maid had mysteriously disappeared. Her employer claimed that she ran away. No one exactly knew what happened to the poor soul.