Stories As Short As Rhode Island

The Mystery Visitor

Breathlessness. I'm not even sure if it could be considered an emotion, but... It felt like one. It felt like one crushing me as I stood in front of the manor. The manor that looked almost unrecognizable after so many years.

It was nighttime. Not a single light illuminated the world, except for the silver rays of the moon, partly obscured by passing clouds.

The sounds the soft wind caused were all I heard other than my heart pounding. They were welcoming noises. The tree branches swaying and the grass rustling reminded me that this was real. That this wasn't a dream.

It almost felt like one. The scene was idealistic enough to be a painting displayed only in establishments as distinguished as the Louvre.

I stared at the house in complete silence.

I promised myself that I wouldn't tear up. Reminding myself of that, I wiped the trembling back of my hand against my watery eyes and took a single deep, shaky breath. I couldn't fathom what I was about to do...

But I knew I had to get moving before dawn and... well, I was already here. It would be a waste to not follow through with it. With another deep breath, I went forward on my journey.

As stealthy as a hunted mouse, I circled around the house. Anyone and everyone inside the building should be fast asleep by now, but I didn't want to take that chance...

I couldn't quite find what I was looking for. All the windows and doors were locked... It seemed like my mission had run into a wall.

Quite literally, I thought to myself as my gaze traced up the unfamiliar structure. Shaking away my doubts, I began my ascent to the top.

A small smile bloomed on my face as I climbed over the stone garden walls. The rumors were true. New Jersey grew up to love gardening, that much was obvious by the condition of the walled-in paradise. I could see it was cherished dearly, almost as if my little brother dedicated himself to making it the sequel of the Garden of Eden.

After sliding my legs over the top, I dropped down in the soft dirt below quietly, fulfilling my goal to miss the nearby flower bed. The dirt smelled damp and fresh, most likely watered the previous evening.

I took in the sight for a moment more before creeping my way to the main garden path.

It wasn't long before the kitchen door stood before me. I softly wiped the dirt off my shoes as I reached for the handle.

I abruptly paused as my breath hitched.

It was left unlocked.

After all these years, the family still hasn't quite mastered the art of remembering to lock the kitchen door.

A wave of nostalgia washed over me as I processed the fact. It was such a tiny detail, but... it was enough to make me want to tear up again.

I stood in the open doorway, staring into the dark kitchen. My legs were trembling.

I hovered in the doorway for a moment more as I tried to gather my thoughts, my emotions... Myself, essentially.

Swallowing my bitter doubts, I shakily stepped into my old home. Suddenly, the song of the wind outside wasn't enough to convince me that this wasn't a dream.

Feeling as if I were in a trance, I drifted across the floor mutely.

Despite the renovated appearance of the kitchen, everything felt the same. The scratches Virginia's old cat left on the sides of the door of the kitchen were still there, now joined by some new ones. I wondered how many more she owned after the one I knew passed.