Short Stories

A Friend on the Other Side

It was a cold night and no moon shone in the sky. Grey clouds choked any slither of light from the black mass above the earth. rain glided like curtains across the sky, pummelling the ground with the force of ten wrestlers.

A girl sat cat-like at a window with her head in her hands. Sleep unable to take her into its encompassing arms; with pain as silent as the grave squeezing the very air out of her lungs as her only company. Silent tears stung her chilled cheeks with their heat and her breath fogged up the glass pane she lent against.  Amidst her ragged intakes of breath she felt her nerves tingle down her spine, she swallowed and the tears slowly ceased their movements. she turned her gaze to the world outside the window, wiping away the condensation her eyes were transfixed on one single place, fear dived down her body but she could not tear her eyes away from what she saw. her blood froze in her veins. 

There, standing dead centre in  the road was the figure of a person. Glaring directly back at her. At that distance it didn't seem human but, nor was it mythical either. Everything about it was odd. It's proportions were all wrong, to tall to be a child, to frail to be an adult, its head was bent crooked to the left side and drooped down its neck, its arms hung limply down its side which in itself seemed crooked in the blinding rain.

He stared longingly at her. He admired the way she looked, the way her hair fell over her face like a black veil. Her face pale and puckered with red splotches. She seemed so alive in her pain. Her chest swelling with every breath. Her body outlined by sweat on the clear icy glass. His whole body shimmered as he watched her cry. He didn't know exactly why he found human pain so fascinating though, he knew it had something to do with the reluctance they have to share their pain with others. How they'd prefer to hide and cry silently on their own. Were they afraid? 

He never means to stare quite so intently as he does. He has become very aware that those who are alive don't tend to appreciate the attention of the dead. But, from time to time, he can't help but linger his eyes on those with so much, but feel like they have so little.She was different from the rest he had observed. She too, liked to observe, stare and wonder about what she can and can't see. When he is hiding in the shadows of the night he feels like she is staring right back at him with the same amount of curiosity he has for her. As their eyes danced about the night in sink with each other, he felt a single name run up to his lips. "Kayla" He whispered, it was beautiful and left a flutter on his lips, she couldn't see it but he said her name over and over again throughout the night, his tone growing more and more comforting with every shoulder jerk and sob that escaped her. 

The morning sun came all too soon for Kayla. As its golden lips kissed the brightening sky she felt  anxiety trickle its way down a syrup river through her every nerve, caressing her skin with its gooey current and clinging to her bones like sweet water grass. Her body ached and her eyes longed to close, she longed for the calming, gentle darkness of sleep to overcome her yet, not matter how hard she tried she could never fall into that peaceful abyss. She rubbed at her throat and scratched her face before sucking at her fingers until she felt the thick, syrup like current calm its waters around her. she uncurled her numb limbs, becoming aware that the boy who had stared wonderingly at her in the night had disappeared with the spot-lighting sun. He felt so real. 

It took her less than a few minutes to get herself ready for school, it was the only thing she was good at now, she made her way as quietly as possible out of her bedroom door; her anxiety now drowning her in its congealed waves. She tip-toed past the master bedroom praying to whatever God would listen that her footsteps wouldn't awaken the monster that lay behind the cracked white door, most children her age were afraid of the monsters under their beds but, Kayla was different, her monster was real, and it wasn't under her bed.