Short Scary Stories

Empty Spaces.

Anne was new to the city, and she knew without a doubt that it wasn't the place for her. She was used to winding country roads, gentle breezes on the porch, and the rustle of the wind through the trees. Here she was simply surrounded by angry drivers, angry cyclists, angry pedestrians, smog, car horns, bus horns, train horns, and the unshakeable shadow of looming skyscrapers. In this giant city, she was beginning to feel terribly claustrophobic, and the ink on her lease was barely two weeks old.

She trudged home through the crowded streets with an armload of groceries weighing her down. It was the middle of summer and suffocatingly hot, and the heavy bag clutched to her chest didn't make matters better. Neither did the fact that she lived on a fourth story walkup. She made it safely-the bag did not burst-and she sighed into the artificial cool of her air conditioned apartment. While she begrudgingly filled her empty cupboards, her mind wandered to her porch back with her family in the tiny little town she called home. Cold lemonade and a gentle breeze always made up for almost any day, and while she didn't have fresh lemons, she did have a jar of powdered drink mix that could possibly do the trick. Her groceries stored away for later, she pulled down a glass and mixed up some lemonade, topped with two ice cubes that began to melt as soon as they left the freezer.

Anne settled into her chair by the window, gazing out at row upon row of windows from so many other apartment dwellers. Her view wasn't great, but at least she had more than just a single alley. Her window looked out across the street and, if she turned just right, she could see down the road a few blocks before the building faded into indecipherable blobs of brick and glass. She gazed out the window, daydreaming about lives playing out behind all those curtains and blinds. She considered the dull monotony of family life, the thrill of single adulthood, the terror of paying bills each month, other potential tragedies, dramas, and comedies all around her, all to the quiet soundtrack of ice clinking in her glass.

As she sat perched in her chair, her eyes eventually drifted down towards the street, meandering along the road until they met a park. She had seen the park on her way to and from work for the past few weeks, but did not think much of it. It was tiny, crammed between two buildings to meet some city ordinance for green spaces. She sat on the fourth floor looking down, she saw how overgrown it looked, the tree branches knotting into a thick weave above the ground. It was so dark in there, but subtly tempting. From here, it looked cool and quiet; it was an oasis in a sea of humanity. As Anne reflected on the park, a tiny voice whispered that it was always empty. She had never seen a soul resting on the wrought iron bench beneath the leafy shade, no matter how hot it had been. The flowers and bushes remained undisturbed around it. Though Anne had not been in the city long, she had learned that anywhere that was always empty, be it a restaurant, convenience store, or even street, usually meant there was a reason for it. But, this was just a park, right? And she hadn't heard any nefarious stories about the dealing in this park. Maybe people around here were just too focused on their cell phones, cable TV, internet, and hustle and bustle to take the time for such a moment of quiet and solitude. She would go to the park and rest, simply listen to wind in the branches and relax under that shade. It would be nice and cool and peaceful. No one would-

Anne was halfway to the door with her keys in her hand before the sharp chimes of her phone brought her out of this daydream haze. She didn't even remember getting up and putting on shoes, but here she was. She made a mental note to get some more sleep and turn the AC up a little more as she answered her phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, sweetie. Just calling to check in on my big city girl!" Her mom chimed in through the line, her voice taking a sweet singsongy lilt as she talked.

She plastered a smile on before speaking."Oh, hi mom. I'm doing fine."

"And how's the job? Your apartment?"