The Little Blue Ribbon Part 3

I sit at work bored. It's Friday, I have nothing to do for the weekend, and I don't want to spend the weekend alone, nor do I want to go to a bar. "What do I do?" I murmur out loud. My co-worker and long-time friend Becky sitting across from me, says, "How about something different for a change?" I laugh, thinking to myself, "I'm gay, trust me, different I've been doing for a long time. But I held my tongue." I replied, "Like?" She added. "Try this, think of a place you would love to go, and you were leaving that day; then ask yourself what would be that one thing I would regret not doing. Then do that." I Laugh and look over my glasses at her and say, "Is that a dare?" She smiles, "Kinda." I reply, "You know me, and you know how this is going to end." "I do, and that's why I love you, Jed. You do the stuff." She smiles and sits down.

We look at each other and grin. I blow a kiss and flirting and return, "So what are you doing to do this weekend?" I ask her being nosey. "Well, Jake and I are going to his parent's house for dinner. Then we're going Downtown to the museum, out to dinner, and then his parents want to take us to 'fine dining.'" We both laugh, and I fill with envy. "Lucky you."

She laughs, "It is nice to have someone to go out with that's not broke all the time." I add, "I guess so I wouldn't know." She snaps back, "Well if you would stop biting their heads off, you would have a date." I add, "I don't bite their heads off. I just hate men." She looks down, "I know you'll be ok."

We both get up, close down our computers, grab our keys and exit the building. "Jed, love you!" as I dash to the bus. "Love you too, Becky!" We part for the holiday weekend. Moments after stepping up to the bus stop, a grim feeling creeps upon me. I shiver, trying to shake it off. This young African American child looks at me and says, "You have the creepies?" I said, "Kinda," She said, "I do that too." "Something strange about today." I look at her, amazed at how in tune we are, and say, "Yeah, I get that."

Finally, Bus 69 pulls up. West Side Flashes almost like a warning sign. I get on, insert my coins, and have a seat. This evening the air is different like it was back in the woods. The little girl says, "Storms are supposed to come. I hate storms." I sit, glancing at her. "Yeah, I do, too, at times. I hate the sirens" She laughs and says, "Me too. I got in the bathtub, and momma laughed at me. She thought that was funny and I was crazy, scared me half to death. But it was just a storm." I smiled, "I completely understand that." Remembering when I heard my First West Side Siren, it almost gave me heart failure. I thought the building was burning down or something. I add, "Where I come from, we don't have sirens like that, so that noise is new for me. My first one almost scared me to death." She Laughed.

We were instant friends. It comes to my stop. "Take care, kiddo." "You too, Jed." Stunned she knew my name, she laughs and points to my name tag still pinned on my shirt. I laugh and relax. I get off the bus and see her face was smiling from ear to ear. I cross the street, grab my keys and get my mail. A letter addressed to me. I open my apartment door have a seat. And start reading.

Dearest Jed,

We want to alert you that we are granting you complete ownership of the family property and all the items therein. You can find the keys at your neighbor's house under the mat. The deed has been signed, recorded, and all the fees and taxes have been paid. The home and all the property are officially yours to move into at any time you want.

I lean back on the couch. Is this a gift or a curse? I remember the fun and pain I had there growing up. I think, ok, what the heck. I hop on the phone and rent a car.

Get a quick shower moments later, the driver shows up, and I am off on the road to the mountains.

I tune the radio. The country music blares at first. "UGH!!! I hate Country music!!" I shout in the empty car. I then take off 65 mph for three and half hours. The road that evening was full of large trucks; people were leaving the city, heading to small towns, lakes, backyards, and Grandma's houses all over the place. I watched some of the drivers. The older drivers are usually the funniest and the most dangerous. This one car, which was very much like the one I was driving, held what looked like three Grannies, and one was in her purse; when she pursed her mouth, I'm pretty sure she had been looking for her teeth. Yet another, this older lady in the back seat smoking looked like she was digging for a bong. I laughed and said, "You go, grannie!" She laughed as I said that, freaking me out slightly making me wonder, "Did she hear me?"

I relaxed, and it came to my exit off the vast four-lane highway. Now the part of the trip I hate. This part of the journey I have always dreaded like a descent into some hellish hole. The mountains are both a blessing and curse, walls that protect and walls that hold you in keep you from the outside world. Only those lucky enough to live at the very tops of the mountains get to live without the depths of real depressing feelings, the walled-up feelings.

Then it comes to the exit to my small town and that vast mountain to cross before entering that tiny 11 store town. Amazing how people ever found this place and made a life for themselves here, but then again, they were running from the law or trying to get away from oppression. The Irish were abused terribly when the potato famine happened. They were mistreated, that some had to go on the run. That's how small towns like mine sprung up deep in the woods.

Finally, with my road sign, I can see the house at the very top of the hill. "At least the road is paved now," I mutter out loud as I start up the winding road. I finally get to the driveway. "I see why they gave it to me now. What a mess vines, grass, does the place even have electricity?" I shout, talking to myself. In the yard, I can see where the massive tree fell and hear laughter. I twist and turn, trying to figure out which direction this strange laughter came from, and cannot find its source.

I wade through the wet weed in the yard. "It must have rained here." The ground and grass are soaking wet, the house slightly dripping. I make my way up the giant steps, thinking, "I hate this place. Now I can do something about these God-awful steps and change how this whole place looks!"

Again laughter comes from outside like a small child; maybe it was near the well, no, perhaps it was near the bushes. I still couldn't tell for sure. I open the door. To my surprise, the house was clean as if someone had been there the day before and cleaned. The floors were mopped, the dishes were washed, bedclothes cleaned, and ironed, and all I had to do was fix something to eat. "Now, for the moment of truth, is there electricity?" I flip the switch, and to surprise, the lights come on. "How about that."

I sit down on the couch and just remember the times I've spent in that house and remember the dread of the arguments and fights. I put my hand down, and there is a tiny blue ribbon with a few strands of hair. Hmm, that doesn't belong there. I place it on the table. Laughter occurs, this time sounding as if it were just outside of the front door. I spring to my feet and open the door, and nothing is there.

I shut the door and walk back into the house again. The laughter comes this time at the back of the tiny house. "Could someone have run around the back of the house to escape me?" I questioned. I rush to the window and look down nothing is there. Then I rush to the next window. Nothing is there, again to the next nothing finally almost circling the house I stop "What in the heck is that?" I give up for the moment and turn my attention to the sink. "I wonder if the well is full or empty?"

I dash down the steps and out into the yard to the first well lifting the lid, "oh yeah, that's full," then to the second well, "Oh yeah, that one is full too." In the bushes behind me, a rustling happens as if someone were walking behind me. I freeze. Then it takes off up the mountainside. I stand there in shock because whatever that was, was larger than any dog or cat. I stand there frozen still, thinking, "Will it come back?" Finally, I gather enough energy to move a little and make my way to the house, looking back. Again, laughter, only this time it comes from the other side of the house. I stand, "What in the," then rush into the house.

I dash up the steps and shut the door, falling against it locking it behind me. "What is happening. I don't remember anything like this growing up." Laughter again happens, this time from under the house. I stomp the floor and scream, "Shut up!". The night begins to overtake the mountain. The outdoor light begins to flicker as it comes on, shining brightly and illuminating the green mountainside foliage.

I stop and look out the window for a moment. I forget how jungles like the mountains can indeed be when trees are green and the rainy season sets in. Then singing comes from sounds like the yard. I try to see where the singing is originating, and there is no source. I stand there horrified. "What have I gotten myself into what is happening? I don't remember anything like this happening growing up? What the hell is happening?" I question out loud, breaking a sweat.

I look into the bedroom, and there is a sparkle of two tiny eyes looking into the window as if a child were tiptoeing looking into the window. I lose my breath in shock. The horror of actually seeing something overtakes me. Grabbing a chair, I sit down, "Have I flipped into some alternate reality?"

Then the door starts to rattle slightly at first, then violently becoming harsher as it progresses. I jump back, then dash to the door and open it to find nothing is there. "Ok, what in the hell is happening." I look around outside the door, "Nothing there."

Moments later, I get a glass of water and sit down, shaken by the events. and think, "Is this the same house I grew up around?"

Then I hear glass shattering. I spring to my feet, spilling my water all over myself. "Where did that sound come from?" I dash to the back of the house. Nothing, how strange to hear glass breaking, and yet there is no glass. I look again and notice that one of the pains of the glass looks clean, thinking to myself, "Curious how that one pain is so clean and the others are not." I go nearer to it to find the glass was gone and broken the window from the inside. "How on earth did that happen?" I murmur to myself.

I stand there in shock for a while, trying to understand what has happened to me. Fear sets in, and I start to become extremely nervous. What is happening, that would cause this to happen? That's when out of the corner of my eye, I see a man walk by me. The horror and fear paralyze me. I completely freeze. "How is this even possible? There isn't anyone in this house." Again my body starts to quiver with fear. I sit, trying to calm myself down. Then a colossal bang and thump happen in the living room.

I slowly creep to the door to make sure I don't make any noise to alert any intruders. That's when I find the couch in a completely different location. The chair also moved and where it could see out the window and watch everything going on in the neighborhood. Bewildered by this, I sit down on the hallway floor, "How is this even possible?" I could feel the horror creeping back upon me.

I sat listened quietly. There was a buzzing noise, almost like voices but also like bees. I started to see what I thought were creatures darting out of the corner of my eyes, at first only glimpses of them. Tiny things, some three inches and black, others six inches and black and white, both faster than lightning, then it happened what felt like a human standing beside me looking at me. I screamed. That strange buzzing occurred again, and fear gripped me. This time I could feel my heart pounding in my chest.

"What is happening around me?", "Have I lost my mind?" Then I hear a strange gut noise.

That's when I notice outside the day had grown into the night. "How is this possible? There is no way it's late enough for that." I see the clock, which said, "4:30 pm the evening Sun should be bright right now. Besides me, there is a sudden sound of glass shattering as the glass hits the floor by my feet. This time I can feel the vibration of the glass hitting the floor. I jump and look down, and there is nothing there. Then a blood-curdling scream, one that left me shaken to the core, I sprang to my feet, looking for my phone to call the police, no service. I could feel the true horror of the moment overtaking me. "But why was all this happening? Who is this in the house, and what in the hell are they doing?"

I grew nervous, standing and shaking. I started to notice things were different somehow. Tiny things, like small things, were moved. The cup was moved, the plate was gone, the dishes were put away. What is happening to me? "Am I having some kind of seizure or something?" I pondered, having had seizures before I started to think, "Oh. My. God. The. Seizures. Are. Back." However, that doesn't account for the screaming and glass breaking. My thoughts were interrupted by what seemed to be someone standing looking me dead in the face and eyes. I felt that panicked feeling return. That sense of doom returned, and I could feel my heart rate speed up.

Then I saw it, with my own two eyes, the chair I had been sitting in, began to move on its own, scooting all by it's self from one side of the room to the other. I stood there in complete shock. There are Ghosts Tears welled up in my eyes as the truth was finally validated, "there are Ghosts." My worst nightmare was happening. I stood there with tears running down my face; it's confirmed.

Then there was a scream, a blood-curdling scream, the kind that lets you know the dead aren't dead. I sit down on the floor again. This time I notice there is something like red paint on my jeans and shirt. I stand up. That's when it happens, "It bumps into me, the shadow or the night thing." I scream. I wait to hear the neighbor's dogs barking, nothing happens. "What is happening?" "Why is this happening?" Then I can listen to it.

Then I hear a man's voice and a male scream. I look down at my shoes, and there is a massive pool of blood. "How is this possible!" I look down, and all of a sudden, my jeans are soaking wet with blood. "How! I didn't do anything?" I run out into the yard. I find a circle of white stones all around the house. "What on earth is this?" Then I feel something dart by me, a shadow of a human maybe?

The shadow was taller than I am. I can feel it getting close and then pulling back and then getting close to my face then pulling away. "What is this."

Then I see a flashlight lying on the ground. Then I see the tall, dark figure pulling to something significant like a large bag of garbage. That's when I see the ultimate horror. It was the horror of horrors it a human chin and nose peeking out of a plastic bag. "How is this even possible?" My mind reeled with shock and bewilderment. I have to get to the police and find a way to stop this man! I search for my keys. I could have sworn I laid them right here on the table. I dash to the window, "Oh My God, the car is gone! How is this possible! I was standing right here. I have not slept. There is no way, wait, that man that darted by me earlier!"

He has to have something to do with this, I bet he stole my keys and the car, Thank God I got the insurance, but now I have to report it to the police. My phone is dead, and that means I will have to walk to the neighbors.

I open the door and notice someone is moving in the bushes. I dash back into the house and shut the door. "What in the hell is going on!" Then laughter occurs a child's laughter, "I have snapped and am in the middle of a delusion or psychic-break or something." I walk through the house, and in the hallway, a board squeaks, that familiar squeak where it has always squeaked. Then I hear screams, multiple screams coming from different directions disorienting me.

I go to the kitchen to get a Pepsi, and on the table, there is a bag of white rocks. I touch one. It sets my skin on fire, becoming so hot I have to drop it. I questioned, "What in the Sam... was in that? I lean over the bag and read, "Salt," "Since when does salt burn like that? Is there something else in it?" I tried to move the bag, but it was too heavy. I walk outside, then down the steps, and there I find a strange circle drawn around the house with salt. I follow it carefully, looking it over, "what a peculiar thing for someone to do." I stepped across the salt barrier instantly. I started to feel strangely disoriented. "What was that about?" I go back into the house.

I sit down, "I am thirsty." sweat beads up. I don't remember it being this hot; before I open a window, the cool air flows through the house. I go to the sink and get a cold drink of water. "Oh, man, that is good. I forgot what untreated water tastes like; it's far better for you too." I plunder through the closet and find an old battery-powered radio. Well, at least that would be some type of entertainment for the duration of the weekend. I place it in the window like grandmother used to and turn it on, and it works, relief. A connection with the outside world is established hu rah. The news comes on, "The clean-up continues on the massive pile-up on the Southbound lane of I-75 folks this is bad there are so many people dead cars trucks destroyed, ambulances helicopters lifting people out trying to save the survivors this has been four days of carnage.

I listen intently, "Glad I missed that mess. Who wants to see that mess. Those poor people and those other folks that are stuck in traffic, imagine how they feel their weekend will be lost waiting to get through traffic."

For a moment, I was happy I was stuck in the old house. At least I wasn't in a car on the hot tar mat. Out of the corner of my eye, I see what looks like a small child's face looking at me, and a split second it was gone. I jumped and screamed, "who are you, and how did you get in the house!" I shouted to an empty house. I walked through the house, and no one was there, "What is going on? Have I entered the Twilight Zone?" I questioned. Then I heard the laughter again. This time it was from outside, "How did it get outside that fast?" as I dashed to the window. "Who are you? What do you want!"

A tiny voice said, "Out what," does that mean "Out?" I shout back, "Is someone holding you here?" The small voice answers, "Yes, and it hurts. They hurt me." I could feel my blood pressure rise, "I will not stand for someone hurting a child. Who hurts you!" No answer. Then a tall, dark shadow appears and swoops in with stealth and precision, then a scream, a blood-curdling scream. I jump to my feet. Where are you! Silence. "Has this thing killed the child?" I have got to find a way out of here. Once again, I dash out the door.

I reach the yard and come to the circle of salt and attempt to step across it again. That disoriented feeling overtakes me with dizziness and a sense of wanting to throw up. Maybe if I broke the circle? I don't understand how this is even possible. Could it be some kind of electric charge or something like a battery? I rationalized trying to figure out what could be causing this illness when I tried to step over this line. It's a line, for God's sake, not an electric fence. Then I heard a scream from within the house. Then I knew I had to get help, or that child would die, and I knew I was not strong enough to fight this thing off by myself.

I grabbed a piece of metal shelving that had laid around rusted and looked like it would make a perfect shovel in a pinch. I walked over to the barrier and took aim, and struck a blow with my make-shift shovel. I looked down, not a dent. I checked to see if the make-shift shovel broke the salt crystals, and none of the crystals were broken, not even a scratch. I stood bewildered. Again a scream came from the house, this time sounding as if the child were in more pain.

I dashed into the house where is this child screaming! I have to find this child and try to help. I am their only hope! I rush through the place. Where could someone hide in this tiny house? The closet? There's no room there? Wait, there is a small room behind the wall of the closet. I begin to dig into the closet wall, deconstructing the wall as fast as I can. I can see a foot, a small foot, and a hand. Then a dark figure surges forward, covering my view.

I grabbed my uncle's machete he used for cutting small trees and said: "This will do nicely." I break through the wall with an explosion of debris that flies against the wall. "Nothing, one she and a blue ribbon with some tiny hairs on it." "Where in the hell did they go! I just saw two people in here!" I sit down on the floor and come to grips with the fact I have lost my mind.

As I sat there, the announcer begins to read off the names of the people that died on I-75 South. I hear him call my name. I sit there amazed and horrified, and slightly relieved. It makes sense now. I hear something strange outside mumbling, and I dash to the window. I can feel the denial and anger set in, "This can't be happening to me, this has to be some kind of delusion, I've got some bad food, or there was something in that car on the drive down here that poisoned me."

I looked out the window. I see three men standing on the outside of the circle. I stand there. "Could this get any weirder?" On man dark and forboding, having a long dark cloak, the middle man short brown-skinned looking Indian, and the 3rd looked as if he were a preacher from the turn of the century. A voice rings out, "We are sorry you are trapped in there with it. We had no choice."

"What?" I shout back, "With What? There's just a child here that some man has been torturing! go get help!" The Indian says, "Young man, that is no child that is Nihasa," The Preacher says, "That is Mastema." The Third man says, "I am the creator of this creature. I bound it and accidentally bound you." I listen to these men and feel the denial rage in my body. I scream, "Shut up! You are lying. You are crazy. Look at me. I am alive. This is some kind of insane ploy to get to this property." The Third man says, "No, we have already owned it, this spell is so powerful it bends time, and it binds all the souls attached to it. You were the caretaker here, and now it owns you."

That moment I look around to see a small child looking up at me. Its eyes are closed. I say, "Hey, little guy." The men in harmony all scream, "No, don't talk to it." I ignore them and look around to see the child with a charming little boy's face, looking like any Fifth Grader would look just with ragged and tattered clothes. I smile, then it opens its eyes, and they look gouged out. I scream! The whole house begins to rattle, and the child speaks with a deep manly voice, dark and brooding dangerous voice. "Some souls were meant to be tortured. It looks like you and I are inevitably tied to a hellish journey. You will feel no peace, and I will thrive off your pain."

I shout out the window, "Is there a way to kill this thing?" all three in harmony, "Not that we were ever taught." I stand there looking it in the face, and at that moment, all the fear left me. My "You have died and gone to hell, and no one told you, the moment had arrived." "There has to be a way to kill it though there has to be," I murmured to myself. It laughs and says, "Killing the undead, did you think that one up by yourself?" It slowly starts to dawn on me that night has not fallen. I started to feel the absurdity of the moment. Then it started to think, "What if I really did die?" I have never had a day so long before.