Posted on November 2, 2012 by Who I am

Softly, never hearing each others breathing or footsteps, they sneaked slowly up the front door of the old home. Each of the three boys moved every so silently to each window of the porch, looking in, looking for a movement, a shadow, something to tell them to turn around and run, but they saw nothing, and they came back together as a small group, and questioned each other as to whether they should venture further by going in.

It was Halloween night, and for weeks they had been planning this venture to go inside of this house, the deserted house, the one that all gossiped about being haunted. They let their parents think they were going trick or treating, but once out their front doors, they hid their costumes in the bushes, and went to meet each other at the front walk of the mysterious house.

Now they were there, with nowhere to run, but back to their homes, and none of them wanting to have to let the other know they were afraid or big cowards. As they stood at the front door, they decided to go to the back of the house. Shadows followed them as they made their way around to the back.

Tree branches scraping against the window panes, cats howling in the back ground, and glowing eyes coming from a raccoon that was making his way to his nest. The winds were gently blowing, and stiff, left over leaves could be heard scratching against each other.

It seemed like miles before they got to the back door. They stood there, no one wanting to make the first move, but the excitement of what was inside was killing them, and so the oldest shakily reached for the door handle of the big glass door. It turned, and opened, and all the boys jumped back. One of them was shaking so badly, I wondered if he had peed his pants, as I stood looking outside my bedroom window, watching to see what these young boys had in mind.

Then the boys giggled softly at each other, realizing they had let a door knob scare them so badly. They each nudged the other, not wanting to be the first to enter, and then without a prompt, something was forcing them to go forth, to come in, to see what mysteries laid behind the doors.

Once in, there was a chill that went through the boys, and they shivered as they pulled their jackets closer to them. Barely giving each other room to step, they bent down and with hands held out and only one small flashlight, they made their way to the next door.

The door squeaked as they entered, and they poked their heads in before letting the rest of their bodies come through. Shadows bounced off the walls, lining picture frames, and artificial flowers dangling from wall vases. Furniture was covered with white sheets, and there was a big, black piano sitting in one corner. The draperies were closed, and the boys wished that they had more flashlights, but as their eyes adjusted better, outlines became more clear.

They walked over to the piano, as none of the boys had one in their homes, and their curiosity begged them to slither that way. When they reached it, one of the boys sat down on the piano stool and in the quietness the piano began to play. Key after key slammed up and down, the boy was so scared he fell over backwards, and shuffling to his feet, he got up and they all raced to the back door where they had entered.

As they got to the back door, the door slammed on them, not letting them out, they raced as fast as they could to another room, and in their they located a winding stair case and they flew up the stairs, not waiting to see what was ahead or behind them. They did not care if they sounded like a herd of cattle as they raced up the thirty stairs.

Their breathing came in gasps, and they were bent over trying to slow the breathing down, when behind the curtains, came a hand that touched the back of one of the kids. He jumped and screamed. The others looked at him and all they could sense was fear. One of the boys stood frozen in his spot and he did urinate on himself. The other two boys grabbed his hands and forced him to move.

The oldest boy was heard crying and when the middle boy shined the flashlight on his face, he did see tears, and then they all looked at each other and said, let’s get out of here!!!! They turned to leave but saw a shadow sliding up the stair banister, so they looked to the left and then to the right, and saw a big wooden door, and they tried the knob and it opened the door. They raced inside of it and slammed the door, and tried to lock it but they did not have a skeleton key on them.

There was another door inside this room and they threw it open, finding a closet, so each of them went inside, softly shutting the door behind them. A shawl with whispery fringes on it, slowly made its way from the top shelf and landed on one of the boys shoulders. He started to cry and said, I am scared, I don’t want to be here anymore. Let’s get out of here, what should we do, I want to go home!

The other boys put their hands over the kids face to shut him up and told him to hush. He obeyed immediately and all breathing slowed down to almost a death breath, as each listened for any sounds in the room.

What seemed like hours, only being minutes, they heard nothing, so they very quietly opened the door a crack, and eyeballs peeked out, flashing right to left, to see if they could see anyone. They didn’t see anything and no sounds were being heard, so they all got on knees and crept their way to the door.

Once out of the door, they flew down the stairs as fast as their legs would carry them, and this time when they went to the door they had first entered, it opened. They wasted no time in exiting the house and leaving the property.

The house next door, that the spy was watching the boys from was laughing, and smoking his pipe. He walked away from his window view, sure that these boys would not be back again this year.

He had gotten wind that he may have some troubles this years with young whipper snappers, and as the caretaker of the property, he had made sure the house came to no harm.

Link

Plinky | “Letter to (Future) Me” by terry shepherd

Caregiver, Take A Rest

Posted on November 2, 2012 by Who I am

I woke up earlier than Al today, so I took advantage of my free time and got on the

urination: not here (Photo credit: maximolly)

computer and answered the question to Plinky. About the same time I finished the question, Al got up. By now it was nine am, and between that and 10am, this is what happened.

Al rang his bell announcing to me that he was ready to get up. I said that I heard him, and he proceeded to get up, as I finished up on here, which was long enough to get out of WP. I walked back in to his room to start the bed check to see if it was wet, and I see Al peeing on his table and floor and trying to wipe it off with his hanky. He just looked at me, and said he was cleaning it up. I immediately went and got the cleaners for the table top, that was flooding, and the floor, and instantly removed the items from the table that were damp.

Al and I have been in battle for a few days now about keeping things on the table top at night. I have explained to him until I am blue in the face, that it is alright to over load his bed side table during the day, but once bed time arrives, the table can only hold his lamp, kleenex box, television remote, and his bell. I have repeatedly explained as nice as I could, that if he fell out of bed, I did not want to break his items sitting on top, trying to move the table to get to him, but he refuses. He has always been a very stubborn person, in fact, I don’t think I know anyone personally, that is as stubborn as he, and this is where the peeing came in also.

I have repeatedly asked him to sit and go pee, on the commode, but he wants to stand, and then he doesn’t hold his private part, while trying to pee, because he is trying to hold onto something stable in order to stand the short time to pee. He wants everything to stay the way it was prior to Parkinson’s, and I understand this totally, but changes have to be made.

He got mad at me right away, and I believe this is because he was busted, or caught, doing the wrong thing, so he started to blame me for his peeing on the floor and table. I reminded him again, while I was cleaning up the messes, that he needed to sit and pee, not stand. This statement made him mad, and he carried his anger through breakfast, and then when breakfast was over the shower girl appeared at the door.

I let her in and she was a witness to his anger and tears. I felt bad for her as she did not ask to be a party to this. After he got through with his breakfast and rambling on about how I did not care about him, and I was trying to get rid of him by placing him, he was not concentrating on what he was doing, getting up, and he caught the leg of the kitchen chair he had been sitting at, and was dragging it with pushing his walker.

I jumped out of my chair in order to get the chair apart from the walker, so he would not fall once again, and he turned on me instantly. He started charging at me and he was telling me to go to hell, and that I was a bitch.

The shower girl came instantly and tried to get him to calm down, and told me to go back and sit down, that she would give him his shower. Al doesn’t know this but the baby monitor being on, I could hear him dogging me to death, telling her all kinds of crap, trying to win her over to his side, just like a kid that plays mom against dad. All this happened in one hour, before I brushed my teeth, or hair, or was in my day clothes, one hour!

It was awful, but only for an instant, did it sting, but instead I got angry. How dare he act so naughty, when I go out of my way. Wasn’t I just the one who had been cleaning all the messes up in his room, get his medications ready, get his drinks ready, silverware, napkin, plates. Oh forget it I said to myself, I am not doing this for any recognition or rewards, I am doing this because I love him, and because I love him, I have decided to go forth with the placement. I need my health back and he needs more help than I can give him anymore.