Outside the Window

Ah, the first of my creative writings. Number one on the list I follow is Outside the Window. I started with the following picture. Why? Because I googled for it on the 16th of July and it was picture 16 that I found. Nothing more to it. Anyway, here’s the story.

It was a beautiful spring morning. I was looking outside when I heard a yell come from the back door. At first I didn’t want to go and look. Not after the sounds I had heard the previous night. The yelling persisted, so I dragged myself out of the bed and went downstairs.

I strode to the back door as quiet as I could. I had left my slippers upstairs, hoping my bare feet wouldn’t give me away. When I came close to the door, the yelling stopped. I stood still.

After a few minutes of dead silence, I took a few steps back. It was then when I saw the shadow under the door.

The shouting started again. A collection of incomprehensible garbles. At least, that’s how it sounded to me. I refrained. I wanted nothing more than to go upstairs and act like I wasn’t home. But the fact that he started yelling again meant something. Had the stranger noticed me coming up to the door?

I figured I could give it a try. Slight as a feather I walked towards the door and put my hand on it. Not on the knob, but on the door itself. Again, I was surrounded by silence. It took me all the will I had in me, but I wrapped the door three times.

“What do you want?”

There was no response.

After a few minutes, I got tired. I slumped back to the stairs. Before I had taken a third step, they were back. The screams. This time I didn’t care about silence. I sighed. Loud and hard so that the person on the other side of the door could hear me.

I walked back to the door and wrapped it again. Four times this time.

“What the hell is your problem?”

There was no response. For a microsecond, maybe even less, I was so frustrated I wanted to go outside and yell for myself. But then I remembered that I could not go to the other side. I looked to the floor and I was sure that the shadow that I glimpsed earlier was not there anymore. The clock told me that two hours had passed. What the hell just happened?

Enough. I opened the door, only to find myself staring at a wet porch. I heaved my feet over the wet spot and took a look around the corner.

There was nothing there. I went back inside and took a note in the kitchen to write down this bizar series of events. I noticed on the other side of the paper, there was gibberish. The handwriting looked mine, yet the hard scratches made me think I had done this writing during another panic attack. Sigh. I didn’t care and wrote my note. Just so mom and dad would know.

About the time when I was done, the yelling started again. I simply added “There it is again” to the note and ran to the back door. In one motion I pulled the door open and screamed. “WHAT DO YOU WANT?”

Something bumped into me, but it happened so fast that I didn’t see what. Before I knew what was happening, the door had closed and I was outside. Locked out of my castle. I started banging on the door. I don’t remember if I tried the knob, but I can’t see why I didn’t.

After a long amount of time of wrapping, scratching and hitting the door, I gave up. I slumped. Then I heard a whistle coming from the side of the house, but higher than me. Was that sound coming from my room? I ran to the side of the house, noticing my window had just been closed. How was this possible? I was on the brink of losing my mind. After screaming and throwing a rock at my window, I decided to climb. I got about halfway up the house before I fell into the water. The last thing I remember is being dragged under by the current. I believe I was crying.

A shake woke me up. First a small one, then a bit rougher. The third one took me into a couching frenzy. I noticed the shakes were coming from me. I looked at my hands and they were broken. Bashing the door had opened the flesh. The filthy lake water had done the rest. I took a while to orient myself. I was laying next to the lake. Close to the house. When I looked at it, I couldn’t believe my eyes.

Someone was in my room. The window was open and he was looking outside. As if that person was enjoying the nice weather. Where the fuck was he when I was drowning? I got up to my feet and walked towards the back of the house. I guess walking is not the right word. You could also say I was flapping.

At the door, I tried the knob. It was locked. I started yelling. Words sprayed from my mouth. I tried things like “open up” and “get out of my house” but the salty water must have done something to my throat. It all sounded gargled. Even I couldn’t make out the words I was yelling even though I was the source of them. My hoarse throat was hurting me. So I stopped. To breathe and to come back to my senses.

There was no response from the other side. In frustration I started screaming again. This time, the screeches that my mouth produced were painful to my own ears. But I didn’t care. I needed to get back inside. Faster than I would have hoped, I had to stop. I tasted blood in my mouth and I was all out of air. I had almost given too much.

Then I received the answer that I wanted. Three simple wraps. Only to be followed up by a shocking question. “What do you want?”

I looked at the door dumbfounded. What I wanted? What the fuck did this guy mean, what do I want? Wasn’t it clear? I wanted to get back inside, and have him out of my house! Who the hell did he think he was?

I shouted and screamed this, but all my vowels sounded like As and all my consonants like Gs. But it payed off. More knocks on the door.

“What the hell is your problem?”

Tears watered my eyes. I couldn’t get the words out anymore. As much as I tried, only a wheeze of air left my mouth. I gave up then. With my head lowered, I walked back to the side of the house to have a look at the window. That window was mine once, and now I couldn’t reach it. It was open. I was contemplating another climb, when I heard the door open behind me. I turned around, but hid in the shadows. I wasn’t able to make out his features, but I saw that he returned to the house. I waited a moment longer and sneaked to the back door. This time, I had a plan.

I tried the knob, but it was locked. I started yelling at the door. Screaming. Wailing.

And then it happened. The other one opened the door. I ducked. As the other person started shouting, I pushed him out of the way and hurried inside. In one movement, I closed the door and locked it. I sighed and collapsed. Immediately I heard him shouting on the other side, wrapping and kicking the door. I didn’t care. I was inside now.

I went to the kitchen and found the note I had written earlier. I ripped it up and threw it away. It was useful now anyways. I took a new piece of paper, white on both sides, and wrote on it.

“DON’T LET HIM IN. DON’T LET HIM IN. DON’T LET HIM”

I could recall my handwriting, but what I had written didn’t resemble it at all. I had scratched the paper too hard. As I went over the small sheet of paper, I remembered the window in my room was still open. I took the last energy I had and ran up the stairs. When I was in my room, the view stopped me. The other one was nowhere to be seen. I wheezed. The sound frightened me. The sharp tone that my longues produced could have been mistaken for a whistle.

I closed the window and took another moment staring outside. That’s when I noticed him. Our eyes met and we held each other’s gaze.

I fell backwards, onto the bed and wished that I could fall asleep. That none of this had happened. I heard a pounding, a scream and a splash. Nothing more after that. The silence absorbed me and it didn’t take long until I was fast asleep.

When I woke up, the sun was shining. I opened the window and looked outside. It was a beautiful spring morning.