The Visitor

This is a short story written specifically for a contest. The first sentence of the story was the baseline and was required within the writing. Enjoy!!

 

"As I walked into the room, a breeze blew goose bumps all along my arms, making me shiver. The lights were off, but I knew who was sitting there in the living room. I can't say that I wasn't afraid for my life."  Almost as if on cue the smell of violets wafted through the air.  A few seconds later I knew the sensation would be tickling my nose.  My pace had slowed as I entered the room and I wondered and worried what the future might hold as I passed through the chilled air towards the divan. 

It was my favorite room in the whole house, it was my sanctuary.  Would it be my resting place?  I had selected every item, from the paintings hanging on the wall down to the tiniest colored pieces of glass used in the decanters for the flowers.  The bright blues and reds of art deco bottles intermingled with dainty tea cup sets on the shelves.  Some liked to call it clutter I liked to call it interesting.  The room had an eclectic feel, and it was mine; all mine.  But the chill in the air reminded me that I wasn’t alone.

 

Violet was here, who she really was I didn’t know.  I may never know.  I often wondered what had tied her to that particular scent, Violet, her namesake.  She had been my friend when there were no others, my silent playmate and partner in mayhem. I’ve only glimpsed her and her worn white ruffled petticoat once and that only out of the corner of my eye.  I had been Thirteen years old at the time, on the brink of young adulthood.  I remember being scared to the tips of my toes, and gasping for breath and shutting my eyes as soon as my mind registered something was there.  It was the end of our seven year friendship, after that I only sensed her during times of great emotional upheaval.  She was not a figment of my imagination as my parents so readily stated, she was a ghost!  She had been there the day that my father’s brother had gotten caught in the conveyer belt on the farm.  She had been there and helped to keep me cool when I had the near fatal fever.  She had been there days, weeks, before grandfather had his heart attack.  

           

 Just then Buddy bounded in oblivious of the frigid air, leaping and hopping like a bunny rabbit trying to outrun its quarry as he chased a fly around the room, his mouth chomping like an alligator.  “Buddy Stop!” I yelled, knowing that it wouldn’t make a difference.  He would continue to lunge and thrust until he was the victor in his battle.  He had a fuzzy white coat that never seemed to cease leaving its mark upon my home, the floors, the chairs, and yes even the couch that he wasn’t supposed to go on, but from the tell tale signs I knew the couch in front of the window was his favorite spot once I walked out the door. 

Within seconds Buddy crashed into the table near the front door and knocked down all the mail that had been gathered there while I had been away working on a historical research project.  With a thud and a crash, buddy departed the room none too gracefully jumping and racing onward through the house his journey marked by the skittering of nails across the hard floor followed by crashes, bangs, and thuds.

            I crossed through the chill in the room to right the fallen table and pick up all of the envelopes strewn across the floor.  Buddy’s destructive path left behind debris like the remnants of a tornado.  As I was reaching for the mail a draft blew a hand addressed letter from my hand.  The letter drew my attention as it floated back to the floor like a rose petal caught in the wind. 

            “Hmmmm… Curious…” I said to myself as I reached for the envelope.  Goosebumps once again flashed across my body causing my skin to twitch and twitter. 

 

 Dear Ms. Little,

 

            I hope this message reaches you safely.  I

have been trying to contact you for quite some time

without success. I have been endeavoring to research

genealogical information for my mothers’ biological

family members.  I would like to schedule an inter-

view with you sometime in the near future. 

Thank you in advance for your consideration. 

 

Sincerely,

 

 Douglas Harding

 

 

                The sudden chiming of the doorbell jolted me back to reality. With a curious sharp bark and more nails skittering across the floor echoing throughout the house, I knew without looking that Buddy was on his way back to help greet our visitor.

                It had been dusk outside when I last let Buddy out to run.  Now, it was simply dark and foreboding with wispy tendrils of mist spreading across the fields like eerie long fingers reaching for its prey.  I shivered as the doorbell chimed again. I sidled over to the window nearby to peek out at this unusual nighttime caller. He was a tall well built man with a body that promised miles of muscle under the taut worn and faded blue jeans and T-Shirt.  He was looking down throwing his face into the shadows giving him a menacing look. When he looked up I could see eyes so dark they looked like obsidian, which seemed to fit the rest of his face with rugged angular planes and a jaw line that look like it had been chiseled by the gods themselves.  I was mesmerized. Buddy licked my hands and whimpered.  The temperature in the room dropped sharply, and the hair on the nape of my neck stood on end as a pulsing wave tingled down my spine working its way outward making my whole body shiver.  I was not alone.

               

                As I twisted the doorknob and opened the door, there was a sudden rushing of air around me. The arctic blast was like nothing I’ve ever experienced before, and I wondered… was this the end, or just the beginning?

 

Author's Note

I'm still in the learning process of the editing tools... If you have any suggestions, don't hesitate to drop me a line. Thanks.

Reviews

[OutToLunch]

okay, i think my only pet peeve is that you HAVE TO spell out things like "13 Yrs" PLEASE!!!! Thirteen years. Other than that, it's all good. Awesome word choice toward the beginning, (you let up a little at the end, so don't slip!) great hook, it brought me right in, nice imagery...oh, and it kinda seems like you've got a problem with actually saying things. Say that you see a spirit. say that you have a dog or a puppy, or whatever else. not everyone reads context clues so well. and it tends to leave questions in your mind. doubts. not good things to have in a story. but all in all, i say intriguing story. good job.

[Glen marsh]

i loved this strory there was no problems with editing as far as i can see i jugde this by how the piece reads, and how the pace flows, for me it flowed really well nev er did it dip. i loved the ending it leaves the reader to imagine the rest well done a well written story. i would like to know how you done in the contest. cheers. take cafe