The Wait: A Paranormal Short Story

One

Whether rain, shine, or even the cold winds that brought glistening white snow and frozen waters; I would see him. Every day, he'd be there, sitting in that same spot, waiting. Waiting as the commuters made their way to work. Waiting as they came and had lunch around the pier. Waiting as they made their way back past him again, on their somber journeys home. Then when the sun was gone, so was he.

What he was waiting for all this time I didn't know. From the window where I watched the world, I chronicled his comings and goings in my mind. I never saw him arrive and never saw him walk away, but each day he was the same, never bringing anything with him besides himself and never leaving anything behind.

I opened the window to let in the autumn air. September struggled to hang on to its languishing summer, taking shelter in the leaves of the trees that still clung to the branches. Nevertheless, they would have to fall soon. And, eventually, winter would come.

I breathed in the dryness of the breeze, sneezing as it tickled my nostrils. Today would be the day. I would finally leave my perfect fifth story bedroom view in my oversized townhouse and walk down the stairs and out the front door.

"I can do it," I whispered in repetition to myself.

It had been two years since I'd crossed the threshold of my doorstep but today I would do more than reach out for my packages and mail.

He was waiting for me. He didn't know it, but I had to go to that bench and sit with him. I looked out the window once more, trying to gather my courage. I'd showered that morning and for the first time since Labor Day, I finally shaved my scraggly beard and mustache.

He might think I'm strange. He might get up and walk away. Who did I think I was? I would be invading his space. What if he was waiting on someone and today was the day they came? What if my being there scared them away? Doubt wracked my mind as I wrestled with my own insecurities and fears.

I paced back and forth in front of my bed, my hands clasped behind my damp hair. I was being foolish to think this man would want to have anything to do with me. He'd been fine, sitting there day after day for at least as long as I'd been sitting in my home. Thinking back, I'd lost track of time and no longer knew exactly how long it had been.

I shuffled back to the window trying to regain the little courage I'd summoned. The fresh air felt good. It smelled good. It felt inviting as it wafted into my room carrying with it the hints of aged flowers and leaves. He was still there. His brown hat leaning to the side. His eyes seemed to glance at every person walking by; just long enough to realize that no one passing was the one he was looking for.

My gaze fell on my reflection in the dusty mirror. I hadn't seen myself fully dressed in more than two years. Time rushed back to me as I saw myself in my humble humanness. It was two years ago this month, that I'd last been out. My last exit out of my home marked by the funeral. After trying on three pairs of pants with zippers and buttons, I realized my clothes no longer fit me. Sweatpants and a large sweatshirt would have to suffice.

"I'm going out, Molly."

She smiled from her seat in the blue wing-back chair. Her white dress accented her olive skin. I kissed her as I headed downstairs. The door loomed ahead of me. As I got closer, my head began to swim and I swayed as if intoxicated. The churned of my stomach made me turn for the restroom, grateful for the momentary excuse. After dry heaving over the toilet for several minutes, I stood up and weakly took a mouthful of water.

"I'm really going this time," I yelled back up again to Molly.

I knew she was already looking out the window to see if I'd done it. I closed my eyes and pulled the door open. The air hit me, nearly taking the wind out of me. It had been months since I'd even stood in the doorway long enough to feel it. I went to take the step out but my legs didn't move and my feet wouldn't budge. I felt a gentle touch on my back and knew it was okay. I slowly picked up one leg, forcing it down and then dragged the other. Once on my front step I took a deep breath and closed the door. I was outside and now only had to make it down the steps and around to the pier.

My legs were lead cannonballs as I took the three steps down to the sidewalk. Lightheaded, my heart was racing so hard I thought I might faint. No one seemed to notice except me.

"I can do this." My steps were slow and pained but I was moving towards the man on the bench. From my bedroom window the pier had seemed so close but the walk now felt like miles.

I looked back at the house to see the window that had been my main view to the world for too long. Molly smiled at me. I know she must've been proud. I would do this, for her.