Vacant

by S. Graham

  "Let's be quiet because Logan's sleeping, but let's read a story of your choice."

  "This one, Mom." Connor picks up another one of his favorites, the cartoon book Star Wars, a new hope.

  "Of course!" I look over and smile. We have only read this a million times, and I can read it a million more. Finishing the book, we snuggle down under the covers with Connor now fast asleep. I hope he remembers these precious moments of tents and sleepovers because I will. Slowly, my eyes start closing, and I think—doors locked-check, windows closed-check, alarm on-check, video surveillance on-check. I'm okay to sleep, and off I drifted.

  Waking up a couple of hours later, I open my eyes slowly. I've been lying on my side with my back to the kids, and now my left arm is asleep and tingling. The floors are just not as comfy as you get older, no matter how much foam you put down—rolling off my arm now laying on my back staring up at the tent sheets. I glance over and see Connor snoring while Logan's sleeping like a starfish with his hand across Connor's face. "These boys!" I chuckle.

  At this moment, a clicking sound from the far corner of my room catches my attention. Turning my head, I have the perfect view of under my bed. The sound was familiar; it's the sound of my bedroom door. Watching the door from under my bed, I see it slowly opening. "Oh God, no!" I whisper. I face my nightstand, and now my line of sight is covered from all these sheets over us. My breathing is increasing, and my heart is starting to race again.

  I stare at the bottom of the door, praying that's it, let this be everything that happens tonight—closing my eyes, ignoring everything completely. Just then, the sound of movement from the doorway grabs my attention. As I'm turning my head out of the darkness, two pale feet step in. "This isn't happening, please, please!" I'm pleading for this madness to stop. My eyes stare at the small white, pale feet and bony ankles in my doorway and watch him start to take his first steps entering my bedroom. He is coming around to the bottom of my bed, shuffling with each step. Now I can't see him because of the tent we made; he is out of my view completely, the damn sheets are in the way. Oh, God, my kids!

  Rolling over, I huddle closer to the boys, whispering a quiet prayer. Glancing up, I start to see a small hand placing its palm and fingers above me on the white sheets, just barely visible with the light of the moon from the window. His little fingers start gripping the sheets above me, and in a split second, they rip from above, flying to the other side of the bedroom. Letting out a terrifying shriek, I then fumble for my nightstand. Turning on the lamp by the pull-string that I had replaces earlier, sending the light flooding the room not leaving a shadow in sight.

  Connor sits up, rubbing his eyes. "Mom?"

  "It's okay, Connor," "Mom just knocked the sheets off our tent and it scared me."

  "Why would you do that?" He asks, annoyed.

  "It was an accident baby, go back to sleep." He puts his head back down, and I start to scan around the room. There's no sign of the boy, but the sheets are by the bedroom door.

  "That's enough!" I say, hoping this boy can hear me. I'm now sweating in fear and panic every single night of my life. This isn't a game. "This is ridiculous," I utter. While getting up, I move from the doorway and close the master door, making sure to turn the knob and locking it.

  Walking into the master bath to wash my face with some ice-cold water will pull myself together. I pat my face dry and look up in the mirror, expecting him to show his face behind me and nothing. Turning off the bathroom light, I make my way out of the bathroom to stop abruptly in my tracks. The sheets lying on a heap by the bedroom door start moving like something is stuck in them. Frozen in my tracks, I now watch them start to take shape, getting taller and taller until they morph into a shape-like-a-child. My whole body feels ill, standing there in shock, not wanting to believe what's right in front of me.

  "Mom?" Connor says, pointing at the sheets replicating a child. "Who's that?" Just like that, the head turns towards Connor and disintegrates, letting the sheet fall to the ground on the floor.

  "Connor!" I walk past the pile and over to him, giving him a huge hug.

  "Mom, that was a neat trick, how did you do that?"

  How do I explain this? "I don't know, Connor. I guess some Mommy magic!" I keep the lights on for the remainder of the night, watching over everyone as they sleep. The sheets are now evicted from my room and left in the hallway with the door shut tight behind it. Sleep won't happen tonight; my children need my protection from whatever this is. It's my duty as their mother to keep them safe and not let them witness the unnatural things occurring in this house. I'm to act like their filter and willing to do whatever it takes to shelter them, keeping them protected. This is traumatizing for an adult, let alone a small child.

  The sun rises and brings another day. Sometimes when the sun would rise in Dallas, it would be the most majestic sight anyone could ever wish to see. For me, it brings relief; I survived another night. The boys wake up from slumber and run out of the bedroom to play. My feet go straight for the coffee maker; this will be once again a multi-cup-of-java kind of day.

  The boys are laughing so hard upstairs it brings a tired smile to my face.

  "What's so funny?" I yell up.

  "Mom come and see this, when did you do it?"

  "Do what?" I say as my voice cuts out. Walking up the stairs briskly, I can see the boys at the top of the landing sitting cross-legged on the floor. Right in front of them are every single Hot Wheels car they own, making a bumper-to-bumper trail all the way to Logan's room. I follow the trail of cars into his room, I gasp. The Hot Wheels cars are in a perfectly shaped spiral going around and around, getting smaller with each lap until it ends right in the center. There, in the center of the trail, is a rusty old truck.

  "Mom! Look, I got a new truck!"

  "Connor that's not yours, I don't know whose it is, or where it came from." I make a sweeping motion with my feet and drag all the Hot Wheels to the center and start scooping them up with my hand.

  "Mom, you are ruining it, it was so cool!".

  I clean up every little toy and take the rusty old truck downstairs, marching right to the trash can and toss the rusty truck away. My children will not be playing with that wherever it came from; thank you. After things settled down and the kids forgave me for destroying the unknown carpet creation of cars, I put on a movie to buy me some uninterrupted time. I head to the kitchen with the phone in my hand, where there is still a line of sight, but they wouldn't hear me talking.

  "Mom, it was like the boy was playing with my kids. He was playing with their toys. How on earth can I explain all of this?" I whisper into the phone. "Last thing I need is Connor getting whiff of this and become completely terrified."

  "I don't know, Becca," my mom replies. "Between the sounds of last night and today I really think you should head to a hotel."

  "No, I can't do that. Mitch is back in a couple days. I'm just going to bring him up to speed on this house once he is back and hope he believes me."

  "Becca, I know he will, maybe he's seen or felt something?".

  "You're right, Mom, thanks." I needed to hear this.

  Ending the conversation, I hang up the phone, wondering

  Will he? Will he believe in all of this?

  I honestly don't know.

  Chapter 9

  Night creeps up so fast nowadays. I wonder if it senses my anxiety the second the sun sets. The strange daytime occurrences aren't so horrible, but the evening ones scare me to death. The boys are all snuggled in my big bed. Sleepover it is, and I was almost relieved when Conner begged to sleep in our bed. Snuggled in and down for the night, I watch them sleep, looking so peaceful and worry-free. If only I could sleep like that.

  A couple of hours go by, and I've now finished my book. It's so easy for me to get lost in a good page-turner and almost feel like I'm a part of the novel. If my current life wasn't a page-turner, maybe I could get some sleep. Placing the book on my nightstand, I do one last scan of the room before turn
ing off the lamp. It's been a rather quiet house tonight; if only it can stay like this until dawn. My head is now on the cool pillow, and a sigh of fatigue escapes me. It's so much easier with Mitch home. I feel protected.

  As I am drifting off to sleep, not soon after, I am awakened by a light on my nightstand. My cell phone next to me is glowing with notifications alerts. I sit up and turn the lamp on. Maybe it's a text from Mitch. Oddly, it is a little late for him.

  Reading the alert across the top of my phone: Motion detected at 12:24 AM Camera B.

  What? I think to myself. Maybe an animal in the backyard? Unlocking the phone with my fingerprint takes me right to the recent notification recording, telling me it was 10 seconds long. As I push the play button, the view of my yard appears with half of the pool and back door. Nothing is moving, and right when I'm about to close the app, there goes Logan's soccer ball flying into a frame. I bring my phone closer to my face. It's not windy out. Is someone in my backyard?

  My finger scrolls down to the live feed option, and I click. The loading wheel goes around and around. The camera goes straight to night vision. My stomach drops, and I let out a terrifying gasp as the live feed finishes loading on my phone. There, right front and center, is the little boy, standing right in the middle of the camera feed looking straight up at the camera motionless. Letting out a whimper, my phone drops in my lap as I bring my hands to cover the sounds that were pouring out of my mouth—not wanting to wake the boys, muffling the terror that was escaping. Looking down at my phone, I pick it back up. The little boy is still standing there staring up; he isn't even blinking. He is so pale wearing dark pants and an old t-shirt. Something doesn't look right. I look closely and see his eyes have no pupil; they are just pure black.

  The pale boy slowly starts to grin again with his pale chapped lips showing small rotten teeth with his smile, then he turns around and starts walking towards the pool, walking out of frame. I hear a huge splash outside from my master window and throw the covers from my body, heading right to the window to peer out. Pushing apart the blinds, I can see the pool water is settling from a disturbance; there are watermarks on the concrete beside the pool. My eyes feel strained as they're trying so hard to adjust, as I'm searching and looking around for the boy in the darkness of my yard. Just like that, a wet juvenile handprint slams the other side of the window by my face, and I watch the moisture drizzle down from the mark he left. Immediately closing the blinds, I take a couple of steps back from the window. This is not happening. I feel dizzy again.

  Rushing over to my phone, I attempt to dial Mitch as fast as I can. It tries to connect, ringing and ringing. "Come on Mitch, answer!"

  "Hello?" Mitch answers groggily.

  "Mitch! Mitch! Someone is in our backyard!"

  "What? Wait, are you sure?"

  "Yes, I'm sure, why do you think I'm calling?"

  "What happened? Let me take a look," he says.

  "Listen, there was a motion notification recorded and then a boy was standing by the camera and then someone jumped in our pool!"

  "Hang on, hang on, are you okay? Are the boys okay?" he asks, alarmed.

  "Yes, they are fast asleep and I'm in the house, the alarms on."

  "I can see the recording of the ball, but I don't see a boy or anyone else. Where is that recording?"

  I'm so frazzled I stop to think. "That was the live feed."

  "Becca calm down. If there was a boy or any kids in the backyard that came up on the live feed it would have also been picked up as movement and recorded... right?"

  "Well… yes but—"

  "No but… it's okay, you probably saw some fog or mist on the camera. I'm checking all the feeds and there is nothing or no one on our property. It could have been an animal that stumbled on the ball in the feed. Maybe it was the damn rats or a raccoon." He chuckles.

  "Mitch, it wasn't an animal, this isn't funny. I heard someone jump in our pool. There were even water marks." I haven't even told Mitch about the wet handprint on the window yet, and it already isn't going very well. I can hear the doubt in his voice.

  "Everything is alright, babe, I'll add some locks to our side gates in case some neighborhood teens wanted to go for an evening dip. You remember how it was being a teen, the thrill of almost getting caught doing something that makes your heart jump?"

  "No!" I said, "I never did stupid stuff like that, maybe it was nothing. I'm sorry I woke you."

  "Don't ever be sorry, Becca, I'm home tomorrow. Are you going to be okay?" Mitch asks.

  "Yes," I reply. "I'm good, goodnight and see you tomorrow."

  "Night, love you," he says, and the phone call ends.

  Sitting there holding the phone in my hand, I look over towards the windows. I know what I saw; I know it was the same boy. Perhaps he thinks this is a playful game, but this crap is getting old. I lay back and leave my lamp on. I think I'm going to start another book tonight; clearly, sleep isn't forecasted for me yet again.

  Chapter 10

  Mitch comes home to a quiet house, but not the kids being quiet, the lack of supernatural energy. The house has gone entirely dormant with no unexplainable activity. Days go by, and still nothing. There hasn't been an opportunity to talk to Mitch and let him know what really has been going on in this house. I know that I must have the conversation with him, but avoiding it for this long has left it rather uncomfortable. I never keep anything from Mitch, but it's about time.

  "Mitch, let's have a glass of wine by the pool," Passing him a glass of cabernet.

  "Baby, you read my mind." He smiles. "Hot tub?"

  "Sure, maybe after." We walk out the backdoor and sit down on the outdoor wicker loveseat. "I've been meaning to talk to you about something, and don't really know where to start."

  "At the beginning is usually the best start." He snickers.

  "Since the very first day I stepped into this house odd things have been happening. When we moved in I started to see them more. Like the night I hurt your back, for example."

  "Okay," he says. I can feel his hesitation. "Like what?"

  "I have been seeing a young boy in this house. Sometimes in our room, at windows and the other night I told you someone was on the live backyard feed from our camera. I think this place has some sort of spirit."

  Mitch frowns and looks at me. "Like it's haunted?"

  "Yes, Mitch. I think this house is haunted by a child, it's the same boy I've seen from the window the day we first drove away."

  "What! You never told me this before." Mitch snaps.

  "I didn't because I wasn't sure. I'm sure now. Something has been going on and it's getting worse."

  Mitch lifts his hand and touches the side of my face pulling my hair behind my ear. "Becca, this is the silliest thing I have ever heard and really think you should lay off the scary movies and books you read. I don't believe in ghosts and think this is all ridiculous. Everything can have a logical explanation."

  I knew it; I knew he would never believe me.

  "We have been here for almost half a year and not once have I seen anything unexplainable, definitely no ghost child."

  "What are you talking about, Mitch? When my mom was here the lights powered off and all doors slammed with great force throwing her back 7 feet, remember?".

  "Explainable. It's called a storm. Windows and doors left open created an airflow disturbance. I really don't want to talk about this anymore. I would much rather spend some alone time with you. How about you and I have a date night in the tub right now, just the two of us?" Mitch stands up and grabs my hand pulling me up off the loveseat. He smiles, moving in for a kiss. "Now no more of this talk, let's have a good night. Meet you in the tub." Mitch walks into the house to get changed. I'm left standing outside with the cool summer breeze. "Well, that's that," I say to myself, feeling defeated. Now I know I'm really on my own.

  ***

  Days go by, and nothing changes. The house hasn't started buzzing with energy, and Mitch has been home the entire time, s
o sleeping has been a bit better. Our kids were over at the neighbor's house playing one afternoon, and I had the entire house to myself. Mitch was out running errands, and I decided to take a really good look around the house. Maybe something would happen, or maybe I would find a secret door or something in the attic. Who knows at this point. The attic is where I start, and it's so hot from the Texas sun pounding on the roof, climbing the latter further, walking around the hot water tank. It was always strange to me to have hot water tanks in attics, but they don't have basements in Texas, so it makes sense. Nothing jumps out at me.

  Climbing down the stairs, sweating from the heat, I push the retractable ladder back up, closing the ceiling door, now making my way to the stairs. Suddenly, from the corner of my eye, something runs fast from Logan's room, catching my attention.

  "Hello?" I call out. Of course, nothing replies, but I know I'm not alone. "Listen, I don't have a problem with you here as long as you don't do any scary stuff to me or my children." I feel so stupid saying this, but hey, I will try anything at this point.

  The doorbell rings downstairs and breaks up the eerie moment. Heading downstairs, making my way to the front door. "Mommmmm!" The boys bust past me.

  "Hi, Becca," says Carol. We ladies have grown so much closer over the last couple of months, and it has been a relief to have someone in your corner when family doesn't live close.

  "Hi Carol, want to come in?"

  "Oh no, I just brought the boys over because I'm dropping my kids off at the in-laws' house for the weekend. I think they were all mad I cut their playtime short." She laughs.

  "I hear ya."

  "I was thinking of getting some girls together and head to the Vin Room for a couple glasses of wine tonight. They have a live band inside too!" The Vine Room is a swanky new restaurant that recently opened up catered more to extensive wine selections. I have always wanted to check it out in person.