William peeked out the window and
cursed the sunrise. That which had filled his heart with hope and optimism a
few years earlier, now mocked his sadness. Fleeing to his dark living room, he sat
on a dusty, ragged recliner.
God, this torment is too great!
Stumbling to the bar, he rifled
through the empty liquor bottles, searching for a drop of anything that might
numb his pain.
No whiskey, no relief, no anything for me but this cold, empty house.
One day she’ll come back to me---I just know it. She must come back!
Wracked with pain, he collapsed
on the bed and stared at the spot where Karen used to lay.
It wasn’t right of you to leave me, you know. You meant everything to
me. This house, once so full of life, is now my tomb. I’m waiting for you.
Please come back!
As he did every day at sunrise,
William cursed his surroundings and cried himself to sleep. That evening just after
sunset, he awoke to loud knocking on the front door.
Who is it? Who dares to disturb my rest? Kids! I hear kid’s voices on
the porch. The little villains; I hate kids!
Bang, bang, bang.
“Trick or treat!”
William stomped across
the living room, pounded his fists on the door and angrily growled, “Go away!”
“Ayeeeee!” screamed the children,
fleeing back to the sidewalk.
His knees knocking beneath his
Dracula cloak, Arthur told the others, “See, I told you this house was
haunted!”