Friday the 13th

It was the voice of a child. It was a child definitely, she thought as she turned around looking for the source of the gurgling voice.

“Mama”, the voice had called out, but the kid was invisible to her eyes.

She was on a deserted street. There were traffic lights on each end of the street. At one end the street turned right. That was where the voice was coming from. She felt the kid would come soon, to her through that street which turned right. There was a stop sign at the point where the street took a turn.

“Mama”, she heard the voice again and then a laughter of a kid not more than a year and a half old.

“Mama, it will be hell when I arrive”, the voice told her and it was followed by more giggling.

She ran towards the street which turned to the right. The street on which she was running seemed longer than she had imagined. She ran, her white gown trailing behind her. Her back was soaked in sweat. She ran on the unending street.  The gurgling laughter now seemed to be coming from behind her as if the kid was following her.

“It will be Friday the 13^th when I arrive”, she heard the nasal voice one last time.

She forced her eyes open. She was lying on her bed. Her white night gown was sweaty and her hair stuck on her forehead and cheeks.

She felt a gush of fluid between her legs. She sat up. She looked at the clock. The time was exactly a minute away from midnight of the sixth day of the week and twelfth day of the month. Her water broke.