Outside of the Window

I have a foggy memory of something that happened when I was young. I don't know why it happened or if it was real, but I certainly wasn't dreaming.

I was awake one night, laying down on the couch and staring up at the celling with nothing better to do. I was bored, as I didn't want to turn on the TV for fear of waking up somebody. I sat up and gazed out the window. You couldn't see any stars where I lived, so the only light there was that of the street lamps. I turned my head to the front doorstep, and saw something strange.

There was a family of people on our doorstep. They didn't knock or anything, they were just standing there, facing the window which I was looking out of. They looked as if they were poor. I remember the mother standing there seemingly staring right through me, rocking a bundled baby in her arms back and forth slowly. They didn't really look human. More like the wooden dolls I would play with when I got bored. I sunk beneath the window, willing myself to go back to sleep. I looked out the window again, but they were still there. It felt as if they were looking directly at me. I thought they knew I was there, and that they had some type of malicious intent. So, like a real man, I hid myself under the couch for the rest of the night. I kind of felt sorry for them, I mean, they looked pretty sad. They were dressed in clothes that looked old and worn. Yet, no dirt showed up on their skin. They were completely pale white. Sometimes I still think I see them when I look out of the window, staring at me with those sad, black eyes.

A few years later, I was laying in my bed, pondering over what the meaning of it all was. I noticed my eyes beggining to sting, and blinked rapidly, wondering if I had fogotten to for a while. But the stinging wouldn't stop. A cloud of red seeped into my vision like crawling centipedes, followed by black welling up at the bottom of my eyes. It felt as if they were bleeding. Feeling drops of liquid trickle down my cheek, I caught one on my finger and tasted it. It wasn't blood. Just tears. Eventually I could see again, but the first thing I saw was that family that had stood on our doorstep a while back. It was only for a brief moment, but I thought that they were haunting me. Everyone in our house said that there were the spirits of dead cats roaming around, and even I had seen them from time to time. But this felt different. It felt as if they were watching me. In an unpleasant sort of way. I told my mother and she got scared, she said "You're movin' with your auntie and uncle in Bel Air".

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