My first short story of, well, a long long time.

The rock fell onto the cold, dusty floor, trembling layers of paneled walls and oak floors, finally ending with a dull thud against concrete, four floors below. I stood, trembling as well, waiting for the angry voices, threatening shouts and hoarse footsteps deafening the rocks clumsy descent … nothing.

Bored of waiting, I wandered out into the hallway, stopping at the window seat across from the banister curving down through acres of wood. Glancing briefly at the car in the drive, I slowly raised my eyes to encompass the forest surrounding the glade cradling a long curving drive and disappearing into a sea of cypress, oak and pine. 

“Where did you go?”

At first it had been exciting, the angry voices, the slamming doors. The “never coming back,” echoing through the early winter air, first warmed and then chilled my soul. They couldn’t mean it. After all, I belonged to them, bone to bone, inseparable … or so I thought. Maybe not.

I slumped down on the dusty seat, glaring at the wind inspired particles now drifting in the air. They tried to leave, they really did, dragging suitcases dripping arms and legs of cashmere and cotton, thrown hurriedly in the trunk, slammed shut. Car doors slammed, less enthusiastically and then the errrr cough ... errrr cough ... errrrrr of a misfiring engine. Silence.

I pushed up on my elbows and stared again, remembering. Angry voices, escalated and I felt their shattering stares through the glass, shards piercing my soul. A moment later, stomping away from the immobile car, the blaming, complaining dimmed in the distance as they stomped, then strode and finally seeped away down the drive into the forest; the echoes, “it’s only a mile or two, come on.” fading into their distance and finally disappearing altogether.

It had been four days. They had not returned.

Alone again … well I was well accustomed to being alone, but the loneliness, that was interminable. Fading through the hall, gliding down the stairs, I picked at remnants of white sheets tucked into alcoves, ready to spring forth at a moments notice, rocks stacked in dim corners that could echo throughout the house their agenda as hidden as their location, maybe I had overdone it a bit … but it had been so long. They seemed to enjoy the tension of not knowing, the fear … at first.

I stepped away from the house, the front door hissing behind me, "don’t go too far".

"As if I can," I hissed back, invisible footprints marking my progress.

Stepping into the clearing I stared at the car, encouraged the engine into life and ordered it into the pond at the back of the house … it was getting full. At least the car wasn't afraid of my kind ... I guess 'ghost' was close enough. I felt my skin sizzle against the closeness of the trees, turned and glided back into my sanctuary … my safe, secure, sanctuary.

Alone, lonely, again.