Hanging around the house

After losing his job, dad left us last week. My mom left a few days later. She said she couldn’t be in the house by herself. It looks like I don’t count for much.

If you don’t take into account the dirty dishes in the sink, I’m really proud of how I’m doing for an eleven years old girl all by herself.

Nights are the worst. Every little noise makes me jumpy. I don’t sleep in my room anymore; I just crash in the living room and leave the TV on. It’s the only way sleep will come to me.

This morning, I’m cooking a big breakfast. I’m heating up bacon in the microwave, cooking scrambled eggs while toasting two slices of brown bread. Because there is no adult around to tell me I can’t have any, I’m brewing coffee as well; Oh no! The electricity just went off. I should have known better, the breaker must have blown.

Why is it that when adults build houses, they always locate the breaker box in the basement and if that was not enough, they install it in the darkest corner?

Since I’m on my own, I haven’t been in the basement; but now I must face my fears and go down. I open the door, look down; it looks like a huge dark mouth ready to swallow me. I hesitate; questioning if I really need to re-set the breaker. “Come-on, don’t be a scary little girl” I tell myself.

I reach up to turn on the light, flip it, but nothing happens, darkness is not going away, it must be on the same blown breaker. Gosh, I can’t go into that gaping gloomy hole, can I? Apparently not, not being that brave I go fetch a flashlight.

Back at the stairway, I don’t even stop at the top. Right away I go down the stairs so as not to change my mind. It looks so far down, but it’s only thirteen steps. Thirteen steps where I have to fight my fright. With each steps I keep repeating: “I’m not scared” “I’m not scared” “I’m not scared”.

At the bottom, the floor is so cold; I should have put my shoes on. There is no turning back, if I don’t go now, I might not be brave enough to come back.

I feel a draught on my neck, it’s like a beast breathing down on me, I shiver; I have goose bumps. Every muscle in my body is so tense; they are like wound up springs ready to unravel at any moment. If there are menacing creatures, they won’t be able to catch me, I’ll out race them, I’m sure.

I think I haven’t taken a breath since the beginning of my journey; I take a long deep breath.  

I’m so glad I have a flashlight even though it adds to my fright as it creates endless shadows.

I hear a noise on my right, I turn the light beam in that direction; it’s a mouse looking straight at me. I hate mice! I keep the beam on it while I back up slowly. It ignores me and gets back to what it was doing.  

I hit the wall. The electric box is on my left. I skim the wall being careful not to run into anything.

When I reach the box, I look up, I’m too small, I’ll need a step or something to reach it. The only thing I can see is a toppled down chair in the middle of the basement. I won’t touch it.

It is too much, I hurriedly get back to the stairs; I feel Mom and Dad’s eyes following my every move. They just hang there, from the rafters!

  

  

      

  

Hitching a ride

I live in a small house on the outskirt of town. In the winter season, we might get several feet of snow. I don’t mind, I love to ski and as I own a four wheel drive Honda SUV, I don’t fret about the driving.

Last week, things happened that I can’t explain. I’ll share my diary with you.

MONDAY
It snowed all day, the weather office had forecasted six inches of snow but we must have gotten a foot. I went outside to shovel my driveway but as I came near my Honda, I could see foot print in the snow leading to my car rear door but none leaving. I compared the footprint to my foot and the footprint was much larger. I slowly circled around my car and didn’t find any footprint.  The snow blanket was intact.

I was thinking “Did I forget to lock the doors? Great! Now there is probably a homeless man sleeping in my car. I’ll wake him up and bring him to a shelter.”  

I had to remove the snow from my car, but my snow brush was inside. With my gloves, I cleared the window and knock on it yelling: “Hello is there any one there?” This man must have been sleeping with ear plugs on. He didn’t answer and I couldn’t detect any movement. I tried the handle to the rear door. Locked! “He must have locked the doors” I thought.

I fished my keys from my pocket, unlocked and opened the rear door. THERE WAS NO ONE IN THERE! I looked in the front seat: NO ONE! I looked in the trunk: NO ONE! I looked back to the footprints; they were there but now there was also mine, mine and the missing stranger’s. Obviously, I hadn’t hallucinated.  After I had cleared the car and the driveway, it was late and I was ready to go to bed.

I don’t know what to make of this, I don’t know if I will be able to sleep, every creak in the house, every noise outside; I have to investigate. If anyone else is reading my journal right now because I have disappeared, you will know what happened or maybe you won’t!

TUESDAY
It was a perfect winter day to ski. The weather was cold enough that the trails were in perfect shape for my favourite sport. I hurriedly ate my breakfast and got my ski on the rooftop of my car. Not wanting to pay the gouging prices at the ski resort I brought a sandwich and a soup.

After a few hours on my skis I went back to my car for lunch.  Half of my sandwich was missing! WHAT THE HECK! Why would anyone break into my car and take half a sandwich? I ate the remainder half, got my soup and I could swear half was also missing. Not able to explain any of this but not wanting it to ruin my day, I went back to the trails. In the middle of the afternoon I ate some trails mix I had with me, none were missing, I don’t mind sharing, but only on my terms!

On my return home I felt a presence. It was as if there was a passenger. I am a rational person so I blamed my mind for playing tricks.

WENDESDAY
I had to go to the store. On my drive there, I turned on the heater. A few miles later, I realized only cold air was coming out. I looked at the controls; they were set to Cold. I turned the knob back to the hot position. Five minutes later, I looked back and the knob was still set to Cold. The whole drive was as toasty as living in an igloo; I couldn’t keep the knob in the heat position.

I went to the Honda dealer; the manager told me they were very busy but the mechanic could take a quick look at my car and I would have to come back if it were to take too long or if the fix needed parts. The mechanic didn’t find anything wrong with the heater. He even showed me how warm the air coming from the duct was. Boy did I feel stupid! We both laughed it off and I drove back home.

I wasn’t yet out of the dealer’s parking lot that the knob had traveled back to the Cold setting! Until I have time to have it fixed, I’ll have to dress warmer.

The most disturbing was that once in a while I caught a shadow in the back seat. It was just a glimpse but I swear I saw someone looking straight at me.

THURSDAY
As I drove to the gas station I needed to clear my head from all the unexplained events of late so I turned on the radio and sang along with Adele. The radio switched to a hard rock station and Led Zeppelin blasted through the sound system. OMG I almost lost control!

I tried to select my previous station but it would not move from Led. I tried to turn off the radio, no luck there either. I was driving cold as a snowman, and getting Led poisoning!. “What will be next?” I asked myself. There is a saying: “Don’t ask a question if you don’t know the answer”.

I longed to be by myself in the car and be the only master. I started talking to my passenger: “Stop or I’ll get my car exorcised, you dirty…” I couldn’t finish my statement, the radio got louder and louder.

FRIDAY
This evening when I took my car, the radio was silent. I didn’t turn it on, I had my lesson.

Coming up to an intersection I heard a cold creepy voice behind me that sounded like an old man about to die: “TURN RIGHT!”

The car was really cold, but my spine became much colder. I was so frightened. I looked back but of course the seat was empty of any physical human being. I braked so hard that the car behind me almost rear ended (should I say) us.

For the longest time, I just stayed in the middle of the intersection. “TURN RIGHT, NOW!” the voice demanded. Suddenly I felt pressure on my shoulder; it felt like a hand, a frozen hand. This was just too much and I U-turned out of there, drove back home, parked the car, and ran home, never looking back.

SATURDAY
I called a towing company. The operator asked me what was wrong with the car. I told him nothing was wrong it worked perfectly; I just wanted him to tow it to the Toyota dealer.

I hitched a ride in the tow truck to the Toyota dealer. I met a sale agent and asked him how much would he give me for my Honda as I wanted to trade it for a new Toyota SUV? Boy did I make his day! Since all I wanted was to get rid of the Honda, I didn’t negotiate much for the price on the car.  Should I have mentioned the problems I had? Would it be considered a “hidden defect”? Didn’t know, didn’t care.

We happily shook hands, signed a contract and out of the corner of my eyes I could see an employee parking the Honda on their car lot. Good riddance!

Driving back home, the heater was on at full blast, the radio tuned to MY station, and no spooky voices. I was so glad to be alone in my new car and that what-ever-it-was didn’t follow.

I know in a few years when I read my journal, I will be laughing at this, but I’m not laughing now.

SUNDAY
Last night it snowed, just an inch. I looked outside and saw footprints leading toward my new Toyota!  I went to investigate, I walked cautiously and I could see two sets of footprints. One set must have belonged to a child and the other one to a woman. I didn’t make any sound; I walked around my car, there were no other footprints.

“Are we there yet?” I clearly heard a child ask from inside the car.

“Shush he is coming!” the woman whispered.

Lets be Frank

I live alone in the middle of nowhere, the traffic on the road is as light as a feather in the wind. This is a big 2 story house which one day I’ll fill up with a wife and probably a few kids.

My dog Rex is getting old; he is starting to show signs of dementia. I’m afraid I’ll have to have him put to sleep soon, but I keep putting it off. I have him on a leash outside. It’s really hard on me, I love that dog, he has been my best friend for as long we have been together. This morning, he attacked me. He is not a big dog, but he bit hard enough to leave a few marks on one of my calf.

My cell rings, or to be more precise, it plays “Stairway to Heaven”, I love this song so much that I wait a little while before I answer. “Hello!”

“Doris where are you?” the caller asks.

“Sorry, you have a wrong number; there is no Doris at this number.”, and I just hang up.

I have to go out and split some wood, the weather forecast says it will be a cold one tonight. I’ll need more wood for the stove.

“Stairway to Heaven” plays again. “Hello” Irritate, I answer.

“Doris, it’s John…” I cut him off “Stop calling, I’m Frank, there is no Doris here!” I hate this; I just told the jerk he had a wrong number and he calls again. How hard is it to dial ten digits? It’s probably a drunk who just hit the re-dial button but it’s still annoying. I’m so frustrated I turned off my cell. The wood won’t split itself, will it?

I go out, grab my axe and get to the job at hand. In no time I’m sweating, my clothes are soaking wet, this is a good exercise. Soon I have enough for tonight so I keep at it and chop enough for the next 3 days.

The wind comes up, it’s howling, I can’t work outside in those conditions, I come back in and light up a fire. I just don’t want to use my electric heather, I can’t afford high electric bills, and let’s face it, I’m surrounded by trees so why not be one with nature!

I hear the phone ring, it’s the land line. I can’t remember where I put the damn cordless phone last. Finally I find it on the coffee table.  

“Hello” I answer coughing.

“Frank it’s mom.”

“Mom I can’t talk right now, I’ll call you later” and I hang up. I lied I could have talked to her but I didn’t want to. The phone rings again but I don’t bother picking up. I know what a pain in the ass she can be. On the table, there is a picture of us, I can see the love in her eyes, and I feel some guilt but not enough to call back.

I can hear the wind still lamenting, but it’s fading out. I turn on the TV, it’s a re-run of star trek. It will do. I fall asleep. A noise outside wakes me up. If it’s my dog again, I’ll have him put to sleep tomorrow.

Without knocking, some men in blue uniforms barge in and tell me not to move. I’m so startled that at first I don’t even say any thing. They handcuff me.

Outside I can see mom crying her heart out, I can’t go to her, because I am in restraints.

“WAIT what are you doing? You can’t come in my home like this, let me go, don’t you see my mom needs her son. I have to go to her!” I’m pleading.

I overhear one of the uniform saying: “The sick delusional crazy bitch, she thinks she is Frank, the home owner. She killed him, his wife and 2 of their kids; she left the baby crying outside in the cold. Did you see how bloody her clothes are?  We had to put out the fire in the fireplace, she was burning limbs!” Someone plunged a needle in my arm and all lights fade away…

The next thing I know, I wake up and someone in a white uniform is telling me: “Doris, Doris you have to take your pills, we wouldn’t want to repeat what happened, right?”

He should be the one taking the pill, I’m not Doris, I’m Jill!

  

Get the picture?

"Defeat is not the worst of failures. Not to have tried is the true failure."

 George E Woodberry

Welcome to this blog about short stories. Lately I have been diving in the writing sea, I know I’m not that good a swimmer to start with; I have so much to learn. With my French background and inexperience I think the best thing to do is to practice. Hopefully my shorts stories would entertained you. As I will take them to fine tune my style, I will appreciate any comments,

I am retired so this will be as a hobby for now, who knows what the future would be?

Get the picture?

Hi my name is Paul Peterson; I am a well-known painter. If you know anything about art, you have heard of me, I sign my paintings with PP2. It started as a joke because I used to tell people I was Pablo Picasso too. The name stuck and all my paintings have been signed PP2 ever since.

I own a house complete with a studio facing the sea. Talk about inspiration!

It is isolated, only my wife Diane and I for miles and miles.

Two years ago, I was in my studio brushing on the last touch up on a painting. I had used the magnificent view from my window as the background for this masterpiece.  I had added a sail boat out on the sea, lots of shadows from a fog rolling in.

I was really proud with my new chef d’oeuvre. As a routine, when I’m satisfied of my work, I go and walk for a few hours on the beach.

It was a sunny day and because my eyes are really sensitive to sunrays I have to wear blue tinted glasses.

When I returned home, still wearing my glasses I proudly looked at my painting. What a shock I got! On the beach, there was a body, from its un-natural pose; you could tell it was a dead person! I quickly removed my glasses and took a closer look at the painting. All I could see was the beach with the shadows. I put the glasses back on, the body re-appeared!

The glasses were like a filter. Incredible! It was so real I even looked outside at the beach. There was no dead body! I went outside, walked to the exact spot, still no body, to my relief there was just sand.

Back in the studio I looked at the painting.  There seemed to be more shadows than I remember painting. I put my glasses on and I saw in capital letters: ‘’YOU KILLED YOUR WIFE!’’

My wife was out on some errands. I couldn’t wait for her return to show her the painting. What would she think? Would she see the same things I saw? I kept asking myself.

She was late coming back; I was more and more concerned with each minute she was away. I called her on her cell to confirm at what time she would be back. She didn’t answer on the first ring, she didn’t answer on the second ring, and then her voice mail came on.

I left her a message: “Diane it’s me, could you call back as soon you get this?”.

She is never late for supper but that day, she was still missing.  

In the meantime I went to the garage to get some cleaner for my paint brushes. I opened the door and HER car was there… what was going on? I searched the whole house, I went outside and searched the beach again, I looked everywhere I thought she could possibly be, I couldn’t find her.

Out of desperation, I called the cops. It took them an hour to show up and I explained that my wife was missing and I showed them the car.

Just between you and I, I didn’t show them the “special effect” on the painting. They did notice the painting in my studio, and even complimented it.  Needless to say I kept my blue tinted glasses away from them. Just think about it, in cases of a missing person, the first one to be suspected is the spouse, right?

They interrogated me for hours; I had nothing to hide. They searched everywhere I had already searched, NOTHING either! What a waste of time those clowns were.

Our story made the front page news for weeks, and suddenly it was no longer newsworthy.

It took me 6 months to get back to my brushes.  After a few more paintings I had to quit.  In every painting I created ever since, my wife’s body was always showing up in the shadows.