The Door Opened

It was Halloween eve. The skies were gray and filled with gloom. Droplets fell on her face as she wiped her eyes to keep from squinting. There was a chill in the air and the soft winds oozed around her; giving her no choice but to snuggle deeper into her jacket.

She had just shut the door without ever making a sound. She had already played this role before. Earlier when the time was proper she had went out with her friends and decorated unasked for people’s yards.

She stood there under the eaves remembering the laughter. Still ringing in her ears she smiled remembering  the tricks they had performed. She and her friends didn’t want to be home at curfew so they plotted and decided that they would meet under the big elm tree at 11:00, which is exactly now.

The streets looked like glass mirrors as the lights reflected the rain. They had an eerie and spooky look to them when it was dark out. Brittany had not been allowed out very often after dark.

She had just turned 13 this year but her parents treated her like she was still a child. If it weren’t for their stupid ways she wouldn’t have to be sneaking out of the house now. After all, they had let her go earlier.

She ran down the street trying to miss rain puddles and quickly came to the tree. Her other two friends were already there waiting for her. The three of them ran towards one of the buildings that had a big over hang. They huddled under it together, waiting, as if the rain was going to be stopping soon.

A lonely but obvious drunk staggered out of the bar across the street. He glanced in their direction but pulled his coat closer to him and started walking in the opposite direction. The girls covered their mouths and giggled; making fun of the way he walked.

The three of them agreed and they started walking towards the direction of the cemetery. The way to get there was to go through down town and then walk through the quiet little neighborhood. There was a bunch of old people who lived on this side of town. People who had married and raised their families.

The three pulled out their bar of  soap and wrote some nice little words on the cars. They ran quickly to the front doors and scribbled on them. Giggling they continued their walk until they saw the old iron gate. It was shut. A sure sign there was to be no one in there after dusk.

The girls didn’t let this stop them. They walked towards where they knew there was a space wide enough for them to squeeze through. Once in they took off running for one of the old buildings, and ran inside.

It was a chapel. A small one, made for one family services. There was a newer one on down the path that held more people. They sat on the wooden benches and became quiet. Looking around seeing tree branches swaying on the outside of the window panes gave them the shivers.

Things sure did look different after dusk. They heard a noise. They jumped and saw it was a city rat. This didn’t make them smile anymore. They got on top of the benches in hope that the rat would not climb up to get them.

When the felt it was safe to get down they sat back down and were planning what their next move would be when the entry door opened. One of the girls started to cry out of fear. They grabbed each others hands and squeezed.

They turned towards the door but saw nothing. This scared them more. Now their minds could began to build up an imaginary case against the culprit. Brittany and her friends wanted out of here. It wasn’t as cool to be out at night as they thought it was.

The only way out was the same way they came in. But, the door had opened. They each heard the squeaky hinges. They turned towards the door staring it down. The seconds became louder from the big wall clock and their breathing became hushed.

For what seemed forever they decided to make a run for it as nothing had happened in the last few moments. Not letting go of each other they scampered towards the door, running straight out of there and out of the iron gates.

They never looked back until they were on the other side, back in the safe little neighborhood of old people. None of them wanted to be out anymore. They wanted to go home where they felt safe.

They hugged each other and told the other how lucky they were to have made it out alive. Saying goodbye and they would see each other at school on Monday, they each ran for home. Safe in their rooms, under the covers, head peeking out, each of them were thinking about the door that opened.


The Sounds Of Silence

I know the reason

It’s called Respite

Needed for people

Who are caregivers

The air feels stale

The walls seem bare

The sounds of

Silence are deafening                                                  empty_house_by_scarlettletters-d3fenj7

What is not

Normal I do crave

The ticking of the clock

Pierce my ears

My eyes are heavy

But sleep stalls

As I lay silently

Waiting to go to him

For he needs me

But for now

I must rest

I must get ready

For the new day

When hopefully

He will once again

Bring these

Walls to life.

Written by,

Terry Shepherd



Daily Prompt; Wall to Wall

English: Victorian-era row houses, DP, Daily Prompt, Daily Post

What do you display on the walls of your home — photos, posters,
artwork, nothing? How do you choose what to display? What mood are you
trying to create?

I have no special talent in home interior but yet I have heard several comments through the years telling me, You have a knack, you have a talent in making a home homey.

That always makes me feel good to know that once people are inside my home, they feel relaxed. My home is crowded on the walls. You will see 95% antique frames with Victorian Era ladies and children. I have a picture hanging that I inherited from my Dad. It is a farm scene.  Old wooden slat house and matching barn and outhouse. It is not a brilliant photo full of wonderful colors. It is priceless to me because Dad loved it.

In my kitchen hangs more children and country stars. Not singer country stars, the real stars like stars in the sky shape.  Above my kitchen cupboards sit several old crocks and antique vases. Also black memorabilia.

In Al‘s bedroom and his bathroom it is completely filled with coca cola items. He collects clocks so when you walk into his bathroom you can hear train whistles going off and conductors talking. Kind of scary to visitors who are going tinkle and then a man says, All aboard, time to go. Now I always get a kick out of this when visitors exit the bathroom telling me of their adventure with the man in the clock.

His bedroom has so many clocks hanging I don’t even know the count. You hear chimes, and ticking and chatting when you enter the room with no live humans in it.

In my bedroom it is filled with vinery and flowers and more Victorian children framed photos. I have one of my favorites over my bed. You may recognize, The Lady in the Swing. My bathroom holds a library table and wooden crates and an antique barber cabinet.

So I guess my house is simply old. Filled with old things that others may never want in their homes.  When you walk into my front door you are welcomed by two small Christmas Trees decorated in white lights and gold ornaments and laces. You will see various sizes of crocks that old-timers kept their brew in and old cookie jars where they stashed their money.

Don’t worry, there is no money in my jars, just plenty of old stuff lying around and maybe a spider here or there. Don’t forget the magic password when coming up to ring the doorbell. Or the ghosts will be there to scare you off.