Being Alone

I grew up on a large ranch, our nearest neighbors were about 3/4 of a mile away. Grandparents lived a mile and a half the other direction, and some other neighbors, who were elderly, lived "next door". I went to school on the bus, and one day I forgot to stay in town and wait for my mom, and rode the bus home. As I got off the bus in the afternoon, I realized my mistake, and went inside to phone my mother at her mother's house.

We lived in a creepy old house, and I was not happy to be there alone. My stepfather was not home. I had a dog, a large collie, his name was "Pooch". After I hung up from talking to my mother, who said she would not be home for another hour or so, I brought Pooch inside with me. I felt safer that way.

Suddenly, and right on time for scaring me out of my wits, came a 'tap, tap, tap' from the living room. It was eerily musical, 'tap, tap, tap'. I ran outside the side door, through the kitchen, and Pooch followed me.

I went out into the yard, and saw across the road my pony Sonny, waiting for some attention. I grabbed a lead off the back porch and ran out to give him a little walk.

I led him cross the road to the house, feeling a bit safer now, with my dog and my horse to protect me. I figured if I took Sonny inside, I could feel safe enough to go call my mother again, and see if I could walk to my grandparent's house down the road.

I opened the back porch door, and propped it open, then I coaxed Sonny up the two little steps onto the small porch that led to the kitchen. He boldly stepped on into the little room, flaring his nostrils, and looking to me like a brave steed. The area was narrow, it had a large freezer on the left side, and an aisle to the inside kitchen door down the right side. Sonny seemed nervous in the little space, as his feet clacked on the linoleum . He realized suddenly what kind of place he was in. He was 'inside'.

I opened the kitchen door, and that spooked Sonny a bit. He could see the kitchen table, the cahirs, and smell the kitchen. He got more tense. I soothed him verbally, wondering if he would be able to turn around in the kitchen, it was pretty tight with that tqable and the buffet that sat along the wall.

Then suddenly Pooch came in, feeling playful, barking at Sonny, probably wondering what the horse was doing in the house. Sonny bolted, raising his head high, and smacking his head on the door jamb. I started soothing him and telling him to back up, and he jerkily backed his way down the little steps to the yard.

I got mad at Pooch for barking, and then decided to put Sonny back in his pen. My hero vision had faded, I felt silly, ad felt bad for my pony that I had scared him so. He had gotten a knock on the head too. I gave him some regular attention and food, and talked to him, apologizing.

After Sonny was tended to I went back across the road to the house, Pooch following, eager to see what was going on in there. We went in, and sure enough, 'tap, tap, tap'.

'Tap, tap, tap.'

It was so scary. I imagined a bony finger, tapping something. But what?

Pooch thought it was interesting, and pranced off in the direction of the sound. I tried to call him back, but he went on around the corner into the now darkening living room. It was getting late. It would be dark soon. I had to finish this, to find out who was tapping, and where.

I went along after Pooch, and cautiously looked around the corner into the living room.

'Tap, tap, tap.'

I went further, looking to where Pooch had parked himself up on the stair stage, a large flat wooden platform at the foot of the stairs. He was looking up, up at the window.

I was afraid of what I would see there. I imagined something dead, someone dead, a ghost, a monster, every kind of bad thing, all at once I imagined these things, I was terrified, but I looked up.

'Tap,tap,tap.'

Pooch whined.

There in the window was a small bird, tapping on the window glass, attempting to make a cozy little grass nest in the corner of the window on the wide windowsill outside.

I don't remember what I did after it got dark, or when my mother got home ( I didn't tell her about the pony in the kitchen). I do know I wasn't that scared of being alone anymore, after realizing my worst imagined fears had been, in reality, only a little bird.

Sonny Boy, My Brave but Reluctant Hero

LeisaWolf LeisaWolf
51-55, F
1 Response Mar 16, 2010

excuse the tpyos. It's a bit laet for me.