Short Story: The Silhouette by NL Echeverria

                                                                
                                                                 The Silhouette 
                                                                 NL Echeverria
The light of the moon is christening through the small attic window where my bedroom lies. I’m not sure what’s awakened me from my soundless sleep, but something has my heart pounding and my palms sweaty. I grip my blanket tighter pulling it up to my chin. The attic is long and narrow, containing two bedrooms separated only by a door way. The darkness of the night along with the light of the moon is creating shadows along the arched ceilings.
Part of me wants to remain in bed, huddled tightly under the comfort of my blanket till I fall back to sleep, but something’s driving me, pushing me. I peer around the room, able to see my desk and other items with the help from the light of the moon. I slowly push my comforter off my, placing my legs off the side of the bed until I feel the old rough carpet between my toes. As I stand the floor creaks beneath my feet and I freeze for a moment in fear that someone or something may hear me. The room has a musky, moldy smell that engulfs my senses. It’s expected though from a home built in the late 1800’s. Every room is filled with different smells and random noises which is something you become accustomed to in an old home, but being 9 years old it’s hard to get used to the creaking of the floor boards. The noises freak me out.
My parent’s room is downstairs below mine and probably the safest place in the house, at least that’s how I see it. I begin my way down the narrow attic and with each step a new noise sounds beneath my bare feet. I do my best to step lightly, but it’s useless. Finally I make my way to the second bedroom and turn to my left, taking the two steps down into the small hallway that lead to the stairs. The moon light is less here so I grip onto the handrail, following it to the top of the stairs. I reach the end of the dark hallway, hands sweaty and as I turn to my left to face the small narrow stairs that accompany an old house, I take a moment standing at the top, because what awaits me at the bottom has me speechless.
A perfect silhouette of my mom in her long pink night gown with her shoulder length hair hanging down appears at the very bottom of the stairs. Squinting my eyes doing all I can to focus on the figure below. After blinking several times I decide that I really am seeing my mom. She must have heard my noisy footsteps. She stands below smiling looking up at me, unmoving, so I call out to her, “mom.”
Only silence as she watches me. I take a step down the first stair and call her again, “mom”. Again, nothing. She’s just standing there motionless and not responding, but I swear it’s here. My hands are shaking and confusion overwhelms me. I walk down a few more steps, calling her again, “mom”, I whisper.
The same smile spread across her face, she stands in the same position and still doesn’t respond to me. Closing my eyes tightly and reopening them thinking to myself that maybe I’m dreaming, but she’s still standing there. I go down a few more steps till I’m only three stairs from the bottom where she’s standing. If I reached out I could touch her. My heart’s pounding in my chest while I take a deep breath and call to her again, “mom”.
Nothing.
I take the last few steps down the stairs and as my body reaches hers I step right through her and all that I saw before is gone, she just disappeared.
~Based on actual events experienced by the author~

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Comments

  1. Thank you for being on the blog! Loved the short story.

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  2. Wonderful!! I Look forward to reading much more!

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