[Bluejay]

The old neighborhood radiated hostility. The windows of the houses glowed like silent eyes in the grayness of the night. There was life within them and love and warmth. But here where I walked there was just the chill of oncoming winter and a deathly still disturbed only by my solitary passage. Along the secluded walkway, the trees I had climbed in my youth stood stark and barren, their leaves stripped by the change of season and lying dead and rotting along the path. I unconsciously stepped around them, making no sound, leaving no trace.

It was the wrong time of night to be wandering here but it suited my mood perfectly. I felt cold inside, my life sucked away completely by the events of the past week.

Mom, I need you. Where are you?

The question came and went quickly. I knew where she was. I would never talk with her again, never hug her or kiss her lightly on the cheek as we bade our goodbyes. She would never smile at me again.

The funeral had brought the family together, but I couldn't bring myself to stand with them. I remained off at a distance, alone and in silence. Afterwards, they went their separate ways, back to their homes and their loved ones and their lives, leaving me to my solitude.

In my despair and grief, I was drawn back to this place, the place I had lived as a child. It had been years since I was here, many more since I had actually lived here. I slowed my pace at the sight of the playground. Oh, the summer days spent here! I could see Billy and Tommy and Mary riding the swings, sliding down the slide. I blinked and they were gone, vanished like ghosts. The swing floated idly in the wind. There was no one there but me.

The playground, the benches, the fences along the backs of the houses - they all seemed so much smaller than I remembered. They had been an integral part of my life. Now I remembered them, but they no longer knew me. Time had separated us.

I made my way along the path and over the small foot bridge. As I drew near home, I felt the sudden urge to run. I wanted to fly along the path and over the lawn, jump up the steps two at a time, swing wide the screen door and dash into my mother's arms. But I knew she wasn't there.

As I rounded the corner, the house came into view. It was a different color now; I could tell even in the dullness of the halogen-tinted night. I stood out front and looked. Someone else lived there. Someone else was making memories. It didn't belong to me any more; I no longer belonged here. I was the stranger.

Wherever I looked, I could see fleeting glimpses of motion. Little scenes tucked away in my memories played out, appearing and disappearing before I could really see them. The phantoms toyed with me, answering my yearnings with teases, offering me no relief for the emptiness I felt inside. I closed my eyes in frustration.

Quit haunting me!

I turned away and quickly made my way back toward the bridge. A sudden motion forced me from my thoughts. A cat sat crouched along the side of the path. It looked at me, eyes wide. I made friendly clucking sounds at it, but my attention drove it into the bushes. Denied even the friendship of nature, I continued on.

I slowed by the playground but kept going, sadness piercing to the very core of my soul.

As I passed under the trees, a man appeared ahead of me, led by a dog on a leash. The dog sniffed everywhere as they made their way towards me. I kept my head down, my eyes on the path a few feet ahead of me. I glanced up and the dog's eyes met mine. It began to slow a bit and move to the side, watching me warily. I didn't even try to be friendly toward it. Unaware, the man continued forward. I didn't stray from my path; he didn't stray from his.

I exhaled a sigh as he passed through me. He shivered for a moment and let out a low curse.

"What the hell was that?" he asked quietly to no one in particular as he drew his coat more tightly around himself and continued along the path to the bridge.

Without looking, I felt him go, his footsteps fading until there was silence again.

My eyes still on the path, I continued my journey. A small moan escaped my lips. I didn't know where I was going to go next.

I moaned again, a little more deeply this time, my anguish taking voice. All around me was darkness and emptiness. I was a stranger in this world. It no longer belonged to me, and I no longer belonged here.

[Peppy]

Okay, I wasn't expecting that. Well, I thought it was going to be different, more happy, but you killed that part by introducing...you know...that surprise. Whew

[Bluejay]

Definitely not meant to be happy. Thanks for the comment.

[RENA HANDS]

The story brief and filled with general relating details. Question; is the story being told from the point of view of a ghost?

I rate as 4/5!

[Bluejay]

Originally Posted by RENA HANDS

The story brief and filled with general relating details. Question; is the story being told from the point of view of a ghost?

That's the idea, yes.

lol this is really good jnabonne, a horrible sense of longing from the poor girl/boy (??) I like your writing style, easy to read and you get to the point.

[EternalPen]

Two words, NICE FINISH. Excellent job! I was reading this and didn't know what to expect because all I knew was the title, but the title gave me a few good ideas. They were all the WRONG ones of course, but anyway...
I like the idea of the haunter being the haunted and how only the dog and cat could see him. You nicley explained why a ghost would moan of wander infinnetedly in one place, and I REALLY like the ending. Great job, EXCELLENT job, I can't say anymore than that! I (after school, it's like 6:30AM over where I am) going to look for more of your stuff. Keep it up! ^_^

[Bluejay]

Wow, thanks! You made my morning. You seemed to get all the little things I was doing. (So I guess it wasn't too obscure.)

(And thanks, Duncan. Didn't see your response til now.

[Jon%]

This is written very well. The story actually reminded me a bit of the 6th sense. Its a bit depressing, but I am in the "Dark" section after all...

One Typo:
...never hug her or kiss her lightly on the check

[angel]

im making my rounds jay. i love this piece so thrilling all the way thru. the flo iis excellent good 1 mate. keep em coming

kel

[xtremelady]

The description and expression of the child's sadness really draws u in and grips you through to the realization is the one who's gone. Sad and haunting in both imagery and voice; making for a satisfying, excellent read that was perfectly executed ...awesome jna

[Bluejay]

Thanks ladies (and JT - fixed!)

[timtornado3721]

So, that was his funeral and not his mother's. This was quite a twist and a good one at that with the ghost cursing at the other phantoms to stop playing tricks with his head. And relax, it wasn't obscure in the slightest. You did a great job keeping it from being holed.

[Vorcla]

Originally Posted by Bluejay;

The playground, the benches, the fences along the backs of the houses - they all seemed so much smaller than I remembered. They had been an integral part of my life. Now I remembered them, but they no longer knew me. Time had separated us.

I made my way along the path and over the small foot bridge. As I drew near home, I felt the sudden urge to run. I wanted to fly along the path and over the lawn, jump up the steps two at a time, swing wide the screen door and dash into my mother's arms. But I knew she wasn't there.

Gaaaaahhhhhh!! This is awesome. The entire piece is, but this in particular. I've had feelings like that; the house where I was born and grew up in is gone. At least your character could go back to see his.

I was thinking, "What a wonderful character piece this is!" Then you threw the curve ball, and I was totally flattened.

This. Is. Incredible. I'm in awe of your skills.

[Bluejay]

Thanks so much, both of you. I had forgotten about this piece.