A Late Night Arrival, Write...Edit...Publish

Halloween already. One of my favorite times of the year. Write...Edit...Publish has a great blog hop and it's not too late for you to work some magic and whip up a tale inspired by childhood fears, real or imagined. I'm posting a day early, so hop over to Write...Edit...Publish and add your name to the linky or at the least visit the other writers who are participating. Here's the link.

Thank you, Denise Covey, for creating this fun blog hop.

Before you read my story, I'm being interviewed by Crystal Collier today, here's the link.

A Late Night Arrival

Linda finished washing her face in the master bathroom sink. The kids were asleep and Bill was driving their oldest, Mary, back to her college dorm room. Slipping into her pajamas, Linda turned off the lights and snuggled down under the covers, 4 a.m. would come soon. Tomorrow would bring another eleven-hour shift at the hospital.

            Money was tight. Too tight. If only Bill would get a job. He was a great salesman. But instead of finding work he’d come up with another business idea and had rented a table at the mall, for too much money, to sell stock in his new company. The thought turned Linda’s stomach. She knew the company would never be realized and the company stock was just a scam. Bill would rather lie and steal than work for an honest company.

            How did her marriage come to this impasse?

            She sighed and hit her pillow, rolling over, trying to get comfortable, trying to go to sleep. A moment later Linda heard the car pull into the driveway. Bill was home. When the front door shut she heard the unmistakable sound of his limp as he walked down the hall toward their room.

            Exhaustion dulled her dread. She didn’t want to talk to him. He’d changed from the loving husband she’d married into an alcohol driven abuser who took out his frustrations on Linda and the kids. Should she divorce him? After 24 years of marriage, she hated giving up but none of them deserved Bill’s rage.

            The bedroom door opened. Linda didn’t move. She’d avoid his confrontation by pretending to be asleep.

            Bill sat on the foot of the bed removing his shoes and socks. Linda could tell by the way the bed wobbled along with old experience that he was taking them off. When he finished he went to the bathroom, closed the door and turned on the light. A faint glow illumed the room from around the edges of the door. A moment later Bill turned on the faucet, Linda heard the water running. She lifted her head slightly to peer at the bathroom door just past the foot of the bed.

            As she waited, unable to sleep, Linda wondered what was taking Bill so long. From where she lay, she could see the alarm clock. Five, then ten minutes and the water still ran. Was he sick? As a nurse, her thinking always hovered close to imagining an illness or accident. Concern began to replace her misgivings. Bill might start in on something, but she had to make sure he was okay.

            Pulling back the covers Linda went to the bathroom door and knocked. “Bill.”

            No answer.

            She knocked again. “Honey, are you alright?”

            No answer. The water was still running. Linda opened the door a crack, then wider. Bill wasn’t in the bathroom. No one was and…the water was still running.

            Fear shivered along Linda’s spine and she was suddenly cold. She turned off the water, left the light on and the door open before going toward the hall and turning on the overhead light. The hall light was next and then the living room light. At the picture window, Linda drew back the drapes. No car in the drive. Bill wasn’t home.

            Who walked down the hall and came into her bedroom? Who sat on the bed? Who…who went into the bathroom, shut the door and turned on the light and water? Who?

Word Count: 579

Did this story creep you out? What if I tell you it is absolutely true. When I was twelve we lived in a haunted house in Arvada, Colorado. A little boy died of leukemia in this house and my mother used to see him propped up in a chair looking out the front window. I personally saw a grown man walk through the hall bathroom door and then through my brother’s bedroom door. I marched down the hall, opened the door and told it to leave my baby brother alone. Of course, I couldn’t see it anymore but I still ordered it out as if it were there.

            The story I told you happened to my mother. I changed the names of my parents. Not only did this happen, but while we lived in this house, my father tried to kill my mother with arsenic poisoning. She almost died, and yet, the doctors didn’t call the police. Times have changed since the sixties.

            So, if I ever sense a ghost lingering around me I tell them to get lost. And they do.

Nancy

Once again, Crystal is interviewing me about my new e-book, Halloween Collection 1. Here's the link

Halloween Collection 1,  is FREE on Amazon IF you are a member. Or you can read for Free as a member. I had intended to offer it free to all but Amazon won't let me. 99 cents to buy. If you do, please leave a review.

Click here to order.

Have a spooky day.
Nancy