Carson Fredriksen
I hope Mom comes home soon.
I’ve been saying these six words for the past hour now, or at least that’s what it feels like. I can’t say how long I’ve been sitting at the kitchen table for, but it feels like an eternity has passed and I never even knew it. But then again, I’m only seven and when you’re that age a simple five minutes can seem like forever.
My older brother, Trent, is upstairs watching some movie about a woman being haunted by a ghost. I’m terrified just going to the bathroom at night, let alone watching a scary movie. I think I lasted about 20 minutes before I had to leave the room. As I closed the door behind me, I heard Trent laughing and calling me certain names that would make a room full of nuns turn red. I didn’t look back. I wouldn’t give him that luxury even if he threw the remote at my head.
And so here I sit, staring out the living room window and letting my eyes rest on the darkened countryside. I can see almost every star in the sky. The highway in the distance is barely visible. I feel truly alone and I’m starting to get very scared.
I don’t know why but I’ve always found being alone to be extremely terrifying. My imagination always thinks that being alone is the same as being on vacation. Just do whatever you want and make it big and loud, is what it would think with glee.
Because of this, my normally boring brain would conjure up ideas like a crazed killer materializing behind my chair or a screaming ghost flying out of the closet and heading towards me.
The only cure to such worries was the sight of our front yard’s giant elm tree beginning to glow as Mom’s grey sedan passes by the window. Soon the sound of the garage door opener will echo throughout the house before Mom comes through the door. Only then do I allow myself to let my guard down.
Just as I was squinting to get a better view outside, the corner of my right eye catches a yellow glow washing over the elm.
“Finally, she’s home,” I thought happily as I race to the front window and see the grey car drive slowly past the window.
When I saw my mom’s car disappear into the garage, I sighed and fell back against the window.
Soon I heard the first droning of the garage door opener. I smiled widely. Not only was I happy that she was home but I happen to be her favorite son too. She always protects me. Trent can’t do anything mean or rotten to me when’s she around.
Just as the garage door opener began its second chorus, I heard heavy footsteps walking up the small staircase that led to the door connecting the house and garage. Keys rattled, the lock clicked open and the door swung open. Only Mom didn’t come out. The hall was dark but I didn’t dare move an inch towards the light switch on the wall.
For a while there was nothing. Then I saw Mom’s head slowly poke through the doorway. Her head was down so I couldn’t see her face at all. Suddenly she stood up, walked through the doorway and closed the door behind her. I heard a slight creaking sound as she turned her head to face me.
“M-m-mom?” I can’t help the quiver in my voice as the figure walked slowly towards me. She stopped at the edge of the hallway and reached a shiny hand towards the light switch.
I think I liked the dark better than what awaited me in the light.
She had the same height, hair color and face of my mother but she was a doll. Her porcelain skin glowed violently against the hallway lights. I rubbed my eyes and tried staring into her eyes but found only my reflection in the doll’s black, glassy orbs.
“Hi honey, I’m home,” the thing spoke, sounding exactly like my mother, as she slowly stepped towards me.
I start running up the stairs towards my room. As I reached the top, my brother came out of his room. I scream as I see my terrified reflection in his black glassy eyes.