"Sylvie, mommy has to go to the bathroom, okay? I'll be right back", I said and made my way down the hall. "Okay", I heard her call. A few minutes later I returned and found her perched on the bench by my keyboard, which is placed under a window with a nice view of the backyard.
"What are you doing, baby girl?", I asked. I walked over and bent down, kissing her on the head. "Don't you want to watch your cartoons?"
"No mommy. I wanna' watch dat boy." Sylvie pointed to the back wall and continued to stare. I stiffened up, inhaled deeply and squinted my eyes. I'm a bit blind without my glasses, but not that blind.
"Honey, there's no boy back there", I said very matter of factly, but as I lifted her down from the bench, I could feel chills running through me, manifesting themselves as goosebumps on my arms. I had already felt a presence inside of the house, but I had never seen anything and I had always been the only one to feel or hear anything up to this point. To have my daughter now confirming that there was indeed something of the paranormal sort hanging around creeped me out. It was too much for me to deal with and I brushed it off and quickly and walked her back to the family room where I successfully locked her interest back on the morning cartoons.
She didn't speak of "the boy" again.
About two weeks later, as always, Sylvie awoke and requested her cup of chocolate milk and morning cartoons. I obliged and, as usual, made my way to the bathroom for my morning ritual. When I returned several minutes later, my son was standing at the back window with Sylvie, surveying the yard and answering her with, "I don't see it, Sylvie".
I stopped dead in my tracks and spun around to face them, "What don't you see, John?", I asked suspiciously, fearing the worst. It was true. But this time, there was more to it. Not only did Sylvie see a boy, she saw him throwing rocks at the window. There was no noise. These ghostly rocks were just that - not real; not of this dimension. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest and the hair on the back of my neck and arms standing on end. My son approached me with a puzzled look and said, "That's so weird. She keeps telling me there's a boy throwing rocks at our window, but I can't see a thing. What's wrong with her, mom?" I swallowed hard. "Oh, she's just got a big imagination. That's all." I turned to Sylvie and motioned for her to get down off the bench. "Come on, baby, let's go watch cartoons". She obediently climbed down and followed.
And that was it. Nothing more. Weeks passed. A month passed. I figured it was done, whatever it was.
I couldn't have been more wrong.
Sylvie and Chloe often play together in the big, grassy backyard - especially now that the weather is cooling down towards the end of the day and early in the morning. They often drag various toys, mostly dolls and stuffed animals, out into the yard and ALWAYS leave them behind.
The grass in our backyard is mowed by me. I beg my husband to let me do it. I actually like mowing the back lawn. It's relaxing to me. It feels good to get up out of my office chair from a day of typing and do something physical and the sound of the mower drowns out the noise from my fussy girls at the end of the day. Believe it or not, I can actually think clearer with just the hum of the mower. But the lawn had grown out of control. Too many things in my life had kept me from it and now the grass was overtaking the property, so something had to be done.
It was the end of the day, the sun was beginning to set in the sky and my husband rang me and said he'd be home very late. My girls wanted to be outside as usual and I figured this might be a good time to get that lawn mowed. I gave the girls each a drink and sat them on the porch swing to watch as I mowed. I started up the mower and began to make my way up and down in long rows across the length of the yard.
About halfway through the job, the mower hit a plastic toy hidden in the tall grass. I immediately released the lever and pulled the mower back, examining the damaged toy and muttering as I pulled the pieces out and threw them onto the porch and out of my way. I stood upright again and heaved a large sigh, surveying the remainder of the too-tall grass and wondering if there were any other toys hidden in its massive jungle-like mess. Being too lazy to look, I bent down to restart the mower.
Just then Sylvie jumped off the swing and pointed to the far back corner of the yard and started shifting on her feet. "Mommeeeee. Mom!", she shouted, clearly agitated. I sighed and looked over my shoulder, "Sylvie, I'm almost done, okay? Can you sit down and just wait a minute?" I bent down again to start up the mower and she started fussing and dancing hard back and forth on the balls of her feet, still pointing to the back corner.
"WHAT!?!?!", I shouted. These fussy fits are typical for my girls at the end of the day and I was not in the mood for it now.
"I want my doll back, mommy", she cried.
"What DOLL, Sylvie? There is no doll. I don't know what you're talking about!"
"The boy took it, mommy". I froze. I could feel my heart flip-flop in my chest. I swallowed hard and turned to face her, afraid if I looked at the back corner of the yard I might see something I didn't want to see. I watched her continue to dance. I looked over at Chloe who sat drinking her drink and gazing at Sylvie in wonderment. Apparently Chloe wasn't seeing it. I suddenly felt brave enough to turn around and survey the back corner of the yard.
The fiery sun was nearly quenched, casting shadows in the yard, but my vision was clear enough to see....nothing. Absolutely nothing. I sighed and turned back to Sylvie. "Honey, there's no boy. There's no doll. Sit down. Mommy's almost done, okay?" Sylvie hung her head and began to sob. She marched over to the swing and sat down hard, obviously angry at my unwillingness to retrieve the doll she apparently saw.
I quickly fired the mower back up and tried to finish as much of the yard as I could before it became impossible to see at all. As I made my way up and down the lines, I moved in closer to the back corner of the yard. Sylvie's words echoed in my head. I could feel the chemical responses to fear starting up in my body, my breathing becoming uneven and shallow, my palms sweating, my heart pounding wildly. In my head, I thought, "Stop it, Kristin. This is ridiculous. She's imagining it. She's tired."
But as I neared the back corner with the mower, I saw something. An object in the grass. What looked like possibly a doll. My hair stood on end, my flesh like a newly plucked chicken. I stopped the mower and took a few steps in closer.
It WAS a doll. It was Sylvie's doll. I stood frozen. Suddenly I was very aware of the dry lump in my throat. I struggled to swallow it down. Gritting my teeth and breathing shallow breaths, I moved in close enough to stoop down and pick it up. I could feel a cold chill move through me. I picked up the doll and quickly walked back toward the house and my girls, to the back porch, to safety. As I approached, Sylvie jumped off the swing and squealed, "Thank you, mommy! My dolly! Dat boy just frow it down and run away."I'm sitting here, typing this story, completely scared out of my mind. As I'm typing the end of this story at 11:00 PM, I hear my daughter, Sylvie, moaning back in her room. I turned in my chair to head down the hallway and a white flash just jumped at me. I am completely creeped out right now, so I'm going to end it here.
4 comments:
I shat bricks.
Kristin, you should write a book. Seriously, you have a talent.
Oh my goodness! Creepy! I can't watch scary movies anymore because they haunt my dreams for weeks. But to have things like that really happen (not just on the screen)... it gives me chills thinking about it!
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