three : tres
1054 Words
Chapter 3
I blink several times and look back to the woods where I think I saw it but it’s gone. It must be my imagination.
Spooked yet too curious to look away, I continue to stare in hopes it will show itself again. Nothing.
Of course, nothing. What was I hoping to see anyway? A hungry stoner? There weren't any stoners in the countryside, especially not this one. Everything here is like ten years behind from the city. The people especially with their beliefs.
Still curious, I stare back and wait several more minutes.
Again, nothing.
I didn’t know why I felt disappointed in seeing nothing. With a shrug, I make my way back to my room and sit on my bed yawning tiredly.
My eyes open after a few minutes and it’s darker now. It was only a little after lunch when I fell asleep.
Cold. It felt extremely cold. Both my window and balcony are wide open letting the chill from outside enter my room. My heart is beating fast as my skin starts to prickle into goosebumps. The only light was coming from the moonlight. I stiffen considerably as I see a shadow suddenly pass through my window. I couldn’t move. The shadow started to grow bigger forming itself into something terrifying. I stare at the floor watching the shadow when a pair of blood red eyes appear.
I scream sitting up from my bed. I’m drenched in cold sweat.
It was just a dream. A really bad dream.
The sun is still out. I find myself looking out to my open balcony and window. My eyes fall upon what looks to be a single wild flower.
I stand from my bed and walk to my window. I peer down to the flowers surrounding the house and confirm this was not from our garden.
Did the wind blow a wild flower right onto my window sill? Strange that this was the only one. My balcony didn’t have one either. Not thinking much about it, I pick the flower up and put it on my bedside table.
It’s almost dinner time and I did not want to come down looking like this in front of Agatha. She’d smack me with a slipper mercilessly if I did.
After my shower, I dress myself in comfortable cotton pants and a loose hanging shirt. My grandfather is already at the dining table reading a ledger with his glasses on.
I lean down to kiss the top of his head. “Hi, Pa. Have you been waiting long?”
He looks up and smiles. “No. I just got down. Did you have a good nap?”
“I did.” I don’t mention my dream. My grandpa has always been critical with my dreams saying there’s a meaning for everything.
I take a seat right next to him and Agatha comes right away with an empty plate. She begins to pile it with food while simultaneously filling my glass with water.
“Eat a lot.” She quietly instructs before leaving grandpa and I.
He sets his ledger down and takes off his glasses. “The funeral is tomorrow.”
I look down at my food and nod. “Okay.”
Grandpa reaches his hand and places it over mine. “It was her time.”
“I know.” I say my voice cracking.
“We will get through this.” He reassuringly whispers rubbing circles on my hand. “She wouldn’t want us sad.”
I force my head up and smile. “Are you tired? Can we stay up for a little bit and listen to your vinyls?”
“I was just about to ask you the same thing.” He smiles back. “We should eat before Agatha throws a slipper at us.”
We share a laugh and dig into our meal. It’s absolutely glorious that I find myself closing my eyes to savor it. Agatha really had a way with cooking. It’s not surprising because my grandma is the one that taught her.
“Pa, you shouldn’t smoke.” I frankly tell him after we finish dinner. The moment I arrived at home, I smelled it around the house.
We were making our way to the living room when he stopped and frowned. “You know I don’t smoke.”
“Is it Ron then? He shouldn’t also.” I had nothing against smokers but my grandma died of lung cancer and I wasn’t going to risk anyone I care about with it.
Grandpa squints and shakes his head. “Ron doesn’t either. I’m sure of it.”
“Well, someone is.” I blanch opening his vinyl collection and cuddling up with a blanket on our gnarly couch.
He stares at me for a few more seconds before turning away to face his record player. “Maybe it’s one of the gardeners.”
Old classic songs start to play and we change the topic. Grandpa asks about school and my roommates.
“It’s hard but necessary.” I tell him thinking back to college. “I also have a roommate that snores just as loudly as you do.”
We laugh and he tells me about the changes that have happened in town. “The burger joint that you like expanded to the next lot.”
“We have to go there soon, Pa.” I urge him. We had dates there just the two of us since I was young. He’d wear a suit, give a bouquet of flowers and everything.
He leans back into the couch. “I already cleared my schedule.”
“I’ve missed you.” I admit to him.
Grandpa faces me and gives a small smile. “I’ve missed you so much more, little one.”
We spent a couple of hours in the living room sharing stories and listening to music. I’m glad to be home with grandpa. He’s such a soft guy despite his hard exterior that people associate with him.
I lay in bed that night with the curtains drawn allowing me the view of the dark woods. It’s soothing and calming. There’s nothing but the sound of crickets. The soft air that blows lulls me to sleep.
My eyes close and my dream brings me to the woods. I’m running through the beautiful trees just like how I did when I was younger. I ran and I ran until I couldn’t run anymore.
I stop and face the tree. The big one from long ago. It’s still as menacing as I remember it.
When I was five, I fell from this exact tree but no one believed me because I came back spotless. No broken bones. No anything.
I tried to come back to show them the tree but we could never find it.
It’s like it was never there... like I merely dreamt about it.
- Writer
