Thursday, October 30, 2014
Erin's parents live in a very nice neighborhood, one of those gated community type places, which to me, having been born on the "wrong side of the tracks" (yeah, we're like a shitty Nicholas Sparks book) seemed like a mysterious and nearly magical place. There were trees everywhere and all the houses surrounded a couple of decent sized lakes. It was a far cry from the boarded up shops and dilapidated houses of my neighborhood. It was a place where you could walk around at 3:00 in the morning, with cash in your hands and a smile on your face and not have to worry. Having grown up where I did, I could barely understand such things.
Being such a nice neighborhood, we had a lot of trick or treaters. Erin and I sat on the front porch of her parents huge house and handed out candy. As the night grew later, the steady stream of trick or treaters slowed to a trickle and then eventually stopped. We were heavy in conversation about something. I can't remember what now, but at the time it was important, so even though there were no more kids coming by, we stayed on the porch talking, and enjoying the brisk air and the aroma of slowly decomposing leaves.
We were interrupted from our conversation by Toby scratching at the door, wanting to join us on the porch, or trying to let us know that he needed to be let out to do his business.
We enter the house and let Toby out into the backyard, where the fence is, and watch him to make sure he does his thing. I'm hit by the urge to do my business, so I go inside and go to the bathroom. While I'm indisposed I hear the doorbell ring. I finish up, wash my hands, and go to the front door, and see my Erin standing there, looking out into the night. There's no one there.
"Well, I guess the treats have ended and the tricks have begun," she said, or something like that.
I looked at my phone to check the time and see it's nearly midnight. A prime time for Halloween tricks, games of ding-dong-ditch, and egging cars and houses. I decided to move my car into the driveway and off the street. When I came back into the house, Erin was no where to be seen.
I called her name a couple of times and begin to search the house. It's a big place, three floors, four bedrooms, three bathrooms, closets everywhere. I was in the finished basement calling her name when I heard footstep on the main floor above me. I went back upstairs and Erin's there with a worried look on her face. I asked her what was wrong and she says Toby wasn't in the backyard. He got out while I was in the bathroom and she was going to answer the door.
We grabbed a couple of flashlights and decide to look for the damn dog. Erin's parent's house are backed by a large woods and I know that Erin has no interest in searching them at night. We did the stupid horror movie thing and split up. She takes the streets and neighbors yards in the front and I take the woods in the back.
For a little while I could hear Erin calling for Toby, but as I went deeper into the woods, and she went further down the road, I eventually couldn't hear her. Only the sound of the wind in the trees.
I was probably in the woods searching for that dog for half an hour or so before I heard a rustling sound in the distance, leaves being crushed and twigs being snapped. I'd either found the dog or ran across a raccoon, or skunk. Please God not a skunk, I thought.
I called his name again and then waited for him to come bounding at me, as he always wood. But nothing happened. Instead of him coming at me like a whirlwind, the sound stopped. I called his name again, and the night responded with dead silence. I remember thinking that it must have been a raccoon, and that I had spooked him.
I began to walk back toward the house, having decided that Toby wasn't in the woods and if he was, I wasn't going to find him. As I began to walk back toward the house, I realized that I was so intent on finding that damn dog that I hadn't paid much attention to where I was going. I was, I realized, a little lost. Luckily I could see some lights in the distance, someone's house lights. I began to walk in that direction, when I heard the rustling again. Could it be deer, I wondered? I stopped pausing, and listening. When I stopped, the rustling stopped. I began walking again and the rustling took up again. I peered into the dark woods, the remaining leaves on the trees breaking up the moonlight casting dancing shadows on the ground.
Was there someone else out there?
I kept walking toward the light, and hastened my pace and the rustling too sped up. I ran flat out until I reached the house. It was a neighbor's house, but I didn't care. I sprinted through their yard and out into the street. I turned around and watched, waiting for whatever was following me to come into the light of the house's porch light.
I waited for another, maybe, five minutes, and then began to walk back toward my girlfriend's parent's house. When I got back I found Erin and Toby snuggled on the couch watching a movie.
Erin explained how she found Toby making the moves on a Pomeranian down the street and had to drag his blue balls back to the house. I forced a smile. I didn't want to tell her about my strange experience in the woods for a couple of reasons. First, I didn't want to scare her, and second, and maybe more importantly, I didn't want her to laugh and say how I got scared because a squirrel chased me through the woods.
The movie ended and we got ready for bed. Erin was in the bathroom taking a shower, and I was changing into my pajamas, shorts and a t-shirt. I could hear Toby whining and scratching at the back door. If knew that if I didn't let him out now, then I would have to let him out when he woke me up at like 4 in the morning.
I walked downstairs and saw him at the back door, pawing to get out. I grabbed my coat and threw shoes on over my bare feet and let him out. I go out on the back deck and watch him, so he doesn't get away again.
Toby goes to the back of the fence, butting against the woods, and he's sniffing along it. I'm worried that maybe he's got a hole back there, and he's going to escape again, so I walk out to him. As I'm walking closer, I see Toby start wagging his tail, still sniffing at the fence. Now, I'm worried there's a coyote, or another animal on the other side of the fence. I'm about ten feet away when I heard it...
Someone was on the other side of the privacy fence.
Have you ever seen the movie Mothman Prophesies? There's a scene in that film where Richard Gere is talking to the character Indrid Cold and Cold's voice over the phone sounds strange, like an approximation of a voice. That's the closest proximity to the voice talking to Toby.
The voice froze me. I stood staring at the fence, trying to will my eyes to see through it.
Again the voice,
"Good, boy" the voice says and I can tell that he's no longer talking about the dog.
I say firmly call Toby, who runs toward me like he didn't even realize I had been standing behind him. I grab him by the collar and drag him into the house, locking the door behind me.
I ran around checking all the doors and windows, hating that there were so many in this house, making sure they were all closed and locked. I then went to Erin's bedroom and find her fast asleep. I locked myself, Erin and Toby in the bedroom and crawled under the covers.
I didn't sleep.
Tuesday, October 28, 2014
Where the moon was shining brightly,
And the oak-tree’s lengthening shadows
On the sloping sward did lean;
For I longed to see the goblins,
And the dainty-footed fairies,
And the gnomes, who dwell in caverns,
But come forth on Halloween.
“All the spirits, good and evil,
Fay and pixie, witch and wizard,
On this night will sure be stirring,"
Thought I, as I walked along;
“And if Puck, the merry wanderer,
Or her majesty, Titania,
Or that Mab who teases housewives
If their housewifery be wrong,
Should but condescend to meet me”—
But my thoughts took sudden parting,
For I saw, a few feet from me,
Standing in the moonlight there,
A quaint, roguish little figure,
And I knew ‘twas Puck, the trickster,
By the twinkle of his bright eyes
Underneath his shaggy hair.
Yet I felt no fear of Robin,
Salutation brief he uttered,
Laughed and touched me on the shoulder,
And we lightly walked away;
And I found that I was smaller,
For the grasses brushed my elbows,
And the asters seemed like oak-trees,
With their trunks so tall and gray.
Swiftly as the wind we traveled,
Till we came unto a garden,
Bright within a gloomy forest,
Like a gem within the mine;
And I saw, as we grew nearer,
That the flowers so blue and golden
Were but little men and women,
Who amongst the green did shine.
But ‘twas marvelous the resemblance
Their bright figures bore to blossoms,
As they smiled, and danced, and courtesied,
Clad in yellow, pink and blue;
That fair dame, my eyes were certain,
Who among them moved so proudly,
Was my moss-rose, while her ear-rings
Sparkled like the morning dew.
Here, too, danced my pinks and pansies,
Smiling, gayly, as they used to
When, like beaux bedecked and merry,
They disported in the sun;
There, with meek eyes, walked a lily,
While the violets and snow-drops
Tripped it with the lordly tulips:
Truant blossoms, every one.
Then spoke Robin to me, wondering:
“These blithe fairies are the spirits
Of the flowers which all the summer
Bloom beneath its tender sky;
When they feel the frosty fingers
Of the autumn closing round them,
They forsake their earthborn dwellings,
Which to earth return and die,
“As befits things which are mortal.
But these spirits, who are deathless,
Care not for the frosty autumn,
Nor the winter long and keen;
But, from field, and wood, and garden,
When their summer’s tasks are finished,
Gather here for dance and music,
As of old, on Halloween.”
Long, with Puck, I watched the revels,
Till the gray light of the morning
Dimmed the luster of Orion,
Starry sentry overhead;
And the fairies, at that warning,
Ceased their riot, and the brightness
Faded from the lonely forest,
And I knew that they had fled.
Ah, it ne’er can be forgotten,
This strange night I learned the secret—
That within each flower a busy
Fairy lives and works unseen
Seldom is ‘t to mortals granted
To behold the elves and pixies,
To behold the merry spirits,
Who come forth on Halloween
The little room with words and cheer,
But silent feet are on the hill,
Across the window veiled eyes peer.
The hosts of lovers, young in death,
Go seeking down the world to-night,
Remembering faces, warmth and breath—
And they shall seek till it is light.
Then let the white-flaked logs burn low,
Lest those who drift before the storm
See gladness on our hearth and know
There is no flame can make them warm.
Around, within, thy heart shall dwell;
Nor ear can hear nor tongue can tell
The tortures of that inward hell!
But first, on earth as vampire sent,
Thy corse shall from its tomb be rent:
Then ghastly haunt thy native place,
And suck the blood of all thy race;
There from thy daughter, sister, wife,
At midnight drain the stream of life;
Yet loathe the banquet which perforce
Must feed thy livid living corse:
Thy victims ere they yet expire
Shall know the demon for their sire,
As cursing thee, thou cursing them,
Thy flowers are withered on the stem.
But one that for thy crime must fall,
The youngest, most beloved of all,
Shall bless thee with a father’s name —
That word shall wrap thy heart in flame!
Yet must thou end thy task, and mark
Her cheek’s last tinge, her eye’s last spark,
And the last glassy glance must view
Which freezes o’er its lifeless blue;
Then with unhallowed hand shalt tear
The tresses of her yellow hair,
Of which in life a lock when shorn
Affection’s fondest pledge was worn,
But now is borne away by thee,
Memorial of thine agony!
All houses wherein men have lived and died Are haunted houses. Through the open doors The harmless phantoms on their errands glide, With feet that make no sound upon the floors. We meet them at the door-way, on the stair, Along the passages they come and go, Impalpable impressions on the air, A sense of something moving to and fro. There are more guests at table than the hosts Invited; the illuminated hall Is thronged with quiet, inoffensive ghosts, As silent as the pictures on the wall. The stranger at my fireside cannot see The forms I see, nor hear the sounds I hear; He but perceives what is; while unto me All that has been is visible and clear. We have no title-deeds to house or lands; Owners and occupants of earlier dates From graves forgotten stretch their dusty hands, And hold in mortmain still their old estates. The spirit-world around this world of sense Floats like an atmosphere, and everywhere Wafts through these earthly mists and vapours dense A vital breath of more ethereal air. Our little lives are kept in equipoise By opposite attractions and desires; The struggle of the instinct that enjoys, And the more noble instinct that aspires. These perturbations, this perpetual jar Of earthly wants and aspirations high, Come from the influence of an unseen star An undiscovered planet in our sky. And as the moon from some dark gate of cloud Throws o’er the sea a floating bridge of light, Across whose trembling planks our fancies crowd Into the realm of mystery and night,— So from the world of spirits there descends A bridge of light, connecting it with this, O’er whose unsteady floor, that sways and bends, Wander our thoughts above the dark abyss.
Saturday, October 25, 2014
Wednesday, October 22, 2014
Growing up with cats and dogs, I got used to the sounds of scratching at my door while I slept. Now that I live alone, it is much more unsettling.
In all of the time that I've lived alone in this house, I swear to God I've closed more doors than I've opened.
A girl heard her mom yell her name from downstairs, so she got up and started to head down. As she got to the stairs, her mom pulled her into her room and said "I heard that, too."
She asked why I was breathing so heavily. I wasn't.
My wife woke me up last night to tell me there was an intruder in our house. She was murdered by an intruder 2 years ago.
I awoke to the sound of the baby monitor crackling with a voice comforting my firstborn child. As I adjusted to a new position, my arm brushed against my wife, sleeping next to me.
I always thought my cat had a staring problem - she always seemed fixated on my face. Until one day, when I realized that she was always looking just behind me.
There's nothing like the laughter of a baby. Unless it's 1 a.m. and you're home alone.
I was having a pleasant dream when what sounded like hammering woke me. After that, I could barely hear the muffled sound of dirt covering the coffin over my own screams.
"I can't sleep," she whispered, crawling into bed with me. I woke up cold, clutching the dress she was buried in.
I begin tucking him into bed and he tells me, "Daddy, check for monsters under my bed." I look underneath for his amusement and see him, another him, under the bed, staring back at me quivering and whispering, "Daddy, there's somebody on my bed."
You get home, tired after a long day's work and ready for a relaxing night alone. You reach for the light switch, but another hand is already there.
I can't move, breathe, speak or hear and it's so dark all the time. If I knew it would be this lonely, I would have been cremated instead.
She went upstairs to check on her sleeping toddler. The window was open and the bed was empty.
Don't be scared of the monsters, just look for them. Look to your left, to your right, under your bed, behind your dresser, in your closet but never look up, she hates being seen.
My daughter won't stop crying and screaming in the middle of the night. I visit her grave and ask her to stop, but it doesn't help.
After working a hard day, I came home to see my girlfriend cradling our child. I didn't know which was more frightening, seeing my dead girlfriend and stillborn child, or knowing that someone broke into my apartment to place them there.
. There was a picture in my phone of me sleeping. I live alone
Tuesday, October 21, 2014