Antoine's Curious Collection of Arbitrary Short Stories

The Runaway

I look at the sky, it's sullen. The pavement was still drenched with the rain last night. I have this complicated relationship with this type of weather. Rains are only great in a bed together with your warm blankets and not when you're outside of your house. The trees are formed in line creating a shower-like that drips cold water. I decide to cover my head with my hood. Getting sick would only make my life harder. Just few more minutes and we're home I convince myself. Like going home was a better idea. I tried to kick some gravel that are scattered in the ground; those tiny pieces of junk, who are also unfit in their world.

I feel sick. I pinch my nose; I'm probably getting a cold because of the ever changing weather. Add to that the tiresome load of work without proper rest. I realize that I haven't had sleep since yesterday. I didn't come home last night, not because I wanted to but because of my stupid co-worker who ditches and leave the work to me.

I take a seat near the waiting shed to wait for the bus. I find myself wandering around the street, automatically looking for someone.

"Found her," I told myself.

She's there again, at the end of the other street, just standing and looking for nowhere. I don't know what's gotten into me to find her worthy of my very limited time. I usually care less or pay attention to people most of the time but maybe it because of her frequent appearance that influence my attention of her.

I wonder what's she's waiting for every morning there. I thought before that maybe she's just waiting for cars to stop by to cross the street but then she didn't. Or she's waiting for someone, though I've never seen one she's acquainted to before even now. Maybe it's just a habit; a habit to stand at edge of the street, for an hour doing nothing.

"Should I talk to her?"

Nope, not a good idea. What if she's whack? Let's just mind our own business.

The bus came. I take a quick glance at her again before entering the bus. She looks back and we locked eyes for seconds. I sat near the window besides an old man, who looks like he haven't had a shower for a week.

"You see her too?" The man asks out of the blue, that takes me by surprise.

"Been seeing her ever since I was a kid. There is a folklore about her," he continued even without me answering his question.

"That woman, they say is waiting for a man who ran away from her," he says in whisper.

"She's been waiting there for how many years. Only few could see her though. Just you and me, I guess. They say that if you see a beautiful woman, who's wearing a white dress at the end of the street: you shouldn't look at her eyes. It'll bring you nightmares about the man who left her. Worse, you're even gonna be her groom as a replacement for her," the man laughed.

Dang, we couldn't be this unlucky, right? No sleep and a whacko beside me. I shrugged him off, and pretended to be deaf.

"You wouldn't want to be involved with her, young man," he then change into a more serious tone. 'Yeah, I wouldn't want to be involved in you either, fuck off dude,' I thought.

Time passes by and finally I could already see the roof of our house and I pray to all of God's mercy for my mother to be more considerate to me right now. I'm already tired for fuck's sake.

The windows are closed, like always, the doors even. The place looks like a deserted house in the middle of the wild. Old and rusty, the house is small and enough only for 4 person. It won't probably cross your mind that there are people who lived here unless you see one. I took the key inside my pocket and unlock the door. Inside was a lot different, because of the paintings of my mother that are hanging on the wall. It's full of colors.

"I'm home," I said, my voice was hoarse. I didn't get a reply which is much better rather than a nagging of my mother. I walk towards the kitchen and switch on the light. I roamed my eyes to find something to eat. I notice the unwashed dishes in the sink. Great. She's in a bad mood again. I open the fridge only to find a raw and cold egg. Jesus. I took the left over in my bag and fried the egg. This is enough rather than nothing, I convince myself.

"Oh, you're back," someone said. Surprised, I almost dropped the mug I'm holding.

I look around to find my mom standing near the door. She wore a sleepwear and was wrapped in a robe and she's giving me that look again.

"Yeah," I said, scratching the back of my head.

"Do you want to eat?" I asked hesitant.

I was about to prepare another one when she cut me off.

"I'm not hungry. I just wanted to know what the sound I heard was. It turns out it was you," she said with a voice that was both calm and dry. She turns her back after that and leave.

I climb upstairs right after she left. I opened the windows of my room. My space was small, decorated with posters of different bands, and notepads. I lay on my bed, both hands under my head and stare outside.

A runaway groom, huh? Out of the blue, I randomly thought of the story the whacko man told me. Must have been bad for her. Who would even want to marry these days? Life is hard, harder even when you're poor, lol. I feel asleep after the thought.

"Why did you leave?" asked the girl.

"I'm still here," I said in a fleeting voice but she seemed not to hear anything.

"You told me you'll never leave me. I trusted you," said the girl crying.

"I waited for you, even now I'm still waiting for you!"

I watch her cry.

"How can you leave, knowing that I will wait for you no matter what?"

"Why did you even stay, when you're going to leave anyway?"

"Why give me hope, when you have no intention in fulfilling it?"

"You shouldn't have inspired me to live, when you're going to be the same reason for me wishing to die!"

"WHY???—

Morning came and I was risen by the loud and hysterical voice of my mother. Jesus. I know you're unfair bust seriously, dude, my Lord, just let me have more sleep.

"WHAT!??" I shouted back.

"THERE'S A GIRL WAITING AT YOU OUTSIDE, FOR FUCK SAKE STEVEN. DID YOU IMPREGNATE HER!?" She cried loudly.

What?! I rose from my position, in disbelief from her accusations. Good lord, what is wrong with her, what is she talking about? A girl? I haven't even had a time to at least fuck around. I walk downstairs.

"There is a girl Steven! And she said that she's your bride, for fuck sake we are in big debt already-" I cut her off and walk towards the door, and was shock to see "the girl" outside. "HOLY FUCK—