A Forgotten Reminder
They had assured me that they’d be home by 8:30.
The first couple of hours passed, and I barely noticed their absence. Daylight streamed through the half-parted curtains of the living room and created a warm glow as it reflected off of the amber-brown walls.
7:36 P.M
The sun was beginning to set. Shadows lengthened. I retreated to the sound walls of my pillow fort and decided that I would color until they got back. Only one hour left.
8:03 P.M
I turned my flashlight on with a soft click. It’s narrow beam penetrated the growing darkness within my fort.
8:29 P.M
Any minute now. Just 60 more seconds. I could count to 60.
One one million...
Two one million…
Three one million…
60 “one millions passed”. Then another. And another.
9:01 P.M
With the sunlight now completely diminished, the house - my house - suddenly became foreign. The sun had set, and it had taken the familiarity of my house with it. The bright walls, the soft carpets, the warm atmosphere - everything that had once provided a sense of comfort and security now bore a cold, ominous appearance.
9:09 P.M
In my solitude, everything around me began to take a darker form. Shadows became faces on the walls. The coat hanger was a hooded figure until the weak beam of my flashlight proved otherwise.
In my solitude, noises that were once drowned by cheery conversations slowly emerged. An occasional groan escaped from the floorboards. The previously inaudible ticking of the clock now forced me to acknowledge each agonizing second of my loneliness. Outside, a cold breeze broke the silence of the night. As it blew, the leaves whispered amongst themselves and the rusty chains on the swing set creaked in protest. The curtains billowed as the wind reached the open window and pushed past them, heavy cloth left flapping.
9:17 P.M
It was cold. The wind had passed through my house with authority and left a chilled air in its wake.
I wanted to shut the window, but fear had chained me to my spot, and so I was left there, teeth chattering.
I rocked myself back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.
Where were they??
Whatever few shreds of optimism I was clinging to were slowly slipping away, and my imagination turned against me. My mind hungered for an explanation, and the apprehension building inside loaned it several, each one darker than the one before it.
They were lost.
The car crashed.
They were killed.
10:03 P.M
My heart was beating so loud that at first, I didn’t hear it.
Footsteps.
They were faint, initially, but with every passing second, the crunching of the leaves grew more and more audible.
Relief washed over me like a tidal wave, loosening my fear-frozen limbs.
They were back!
I was so excited that I almost failed to notice that something wasn’t right.
Almost.
The driveway was still empty. Judging from their sound, the footsteps belonged not to two individuals, but to one.
As quickly as it had been overpowered, the fear returned. Except now, it had transformed into pure terror.
The footsteps had reached the door. A momentary pause was followed by the rattling of the doorknob.
A forgotten, last-minute reminder from my mother came crashing into conscious memory and brought with it a surge of horror that racked through my entire body.
“Don’t forget to lock the door behind us, sweetie!”