Haywire

         My mother had always told me not to taunt the old woman in our neighborhood. She had a look of despair and eyes that seemed cavernous so no one could look at her for more than a second. She always wore a long black, ragged shawl and a scarf that was always dislocated, allowing her white hair to escape in various angles. Her skin had wrinkles and looked really hard so much so that she reminded me of the corpse of my late Aunt Jane whom I had peeked at out of curiosity even though I had been specifically told not to enter the body room. Whenever the old woman left her downtrodden, dilapidated house, a whole group of children would immediately assemble behind her to bother her. They would shout insults while guffawing loudly and throw pebbles at her.

         Although, I didn't take part of this ritual, I would always watch it with interest. I would sit in the park or on the street benches or standing outside of a store and it seemed that every day, this was routine. And yet, the woman never seemed to ever display any sign of being perturbed. She would always go along her usual way as if trying to relive a moment and then would go home. It happened so often that after a few years thoughts about that woman settled in the furthermost part of mind and sight. My eyes would just rake over her like she wasn't there and I would go about my business. These past years had turned me from a young, shy and scrawny boy to someone who was outgoing, taller and athletic. I had found that I had a surprising talent in basketball so I had been nudged into joining Lars Junior High varsity team.

        One time, around dusk, I was walking down Mudgribb alley, a place notorious for all things underground and even supernatural which in my opinion were rumors spread because of the close vicinity of the old woman's house. I went towards the center of town to buy some groceries that my mother had forgotten to purchase for a gathering the next day. I inhaled the oncoming night's crisp air—taking in all the good memories that this summer heat wave had brought.

         I should have known though that all good things don't last eternally. Maybe, if I hadn't been so occupied in my memories, I would have noticed. If only, I had seen the signs; the crows sitting all over that house, the ominous darkness, the drop in the temperature... As I retraced my steps to return back home from the market with an armful of bags, I whistled a low tune to keep my thoughts occupied. However, by the time I arrived at Mudgribb alley, my whistling seemed loud so much so that it echoed. I stuttered to a stop and became silent. My neck hair prickled and I felt goose-bumps down my arms. Why was I so afraid? I had nothing to fear especially since I had walked down this path countless times before and it was also summertime, so there was no reason for my present state. Yet, the night seemed too dark as there were no stars twinkling in the sky and shadows lurked around. I stayed on that one spot for what seemed like a long time until I finally jerked myself out of my phantom feelings and forced myself to continue walking. I had gotten to the end of the street when I heard a loud, earsplitting howl behind me. I caught my breath and rumors about the old lady began to swarm in my head—something that I hadn't given much thought to for several years now. I turned around as my senses heightened by my adrenaline rush but I couldn't see anything because of the darkness. Another howl pierced the air. My arms froze next to my body and became numb so much so that I could no longer feel the heavy burden of the grocery bags. Something started to move in the corner by the fence but it abruptly stopped as I heard loud thumps of something rushing down the street and whatever it was seemed big. My mind went into a sudden frenzy as fear robbed me of my senses. I began to feel that it was entirely the old woman's fault, the one who walked around like a zombie, the one whom the neighborhood children kept throwing pebbles at, the one whose street I was on. My mind conjured up images of the worst possible things I could do to her as my imminent death came close. I was thinking of setting fire to the old woman's house or even herself, when the thudding steps approached me and in the grainy lamplight, I saw a large, four feet tall, mangy looking, droopy-eyed dog barge past me. Then all was silent once again. My mind went blank in shock as I finally dropped the shopping bags. I stepped back and lost my footing. Something moved again in the corner in my peripheral vision. And the last thing I saw before I hit the ground was the house covered with crows and an outline of a blurry face with wisps of oddly angled white hair.

                                                                            ...to be continued...