Home

I had always felt different from others, but for the first time ever, I could understand why. I was weird. Beyond weird, I was slightly crazy and I could feel it. As I walked through the town I grew up in, an odd sense of nostalgia washed over me as I saw the familiar decorations being hung up by the corner pharmacy and the florist across the street. The spooky feel in the air around me told me just what time of year it was. I continued walking the familiar path, passing by the old bar to the street I grew up on. Turning onto it, I looked down it to where home was.

Home, where my grandparents were waiting for me, I just knew it. I could almost smell my grandmothers homemade cooking and see my grandfather watching his weekly shows in the living room. I chuckled as I looked down the street before turning my gaze up to the blue sky above me, the sun shining brightly. This street was usually deserted, as almost all of the buildings were rundown and worn out. This was not an often-visited part of the city, even when I was young. But it was the same street on which I would go trick-or-treating with my grandmother and my sister.

I could almost see the children running around in their costumes, carrying their plastic bags or pumpkin barrels hoping for their candy fix. The smell of chocolates and screams of people, children and adults alike, as they got tricks instead of treats. It was my favorite time of year because my birthday was also in a few days. I turned back to the main street connecting this part of the city I used to live in. Why was I here? I do not remember making my way here from where I lived. Maybe if I go home, I can find my answer.

The ghosts in the windows of the businesses now occupying the main street seemed to be taunting me, laughing at my inability to understand. A few minutes later, it was just as I imagined. The main street was filled with children and adults walking around in costumes. From serial killers to ninjas, angels to devils, the colors seemed to almost blend together in a beautiful array of colors. I watched from the sidelines as the children giggled, happy to see others enjoying this street as I always had when I was young. It felt so familiar that I sighed from the nostalgia.

“So, you are here too?” A voice said causing me to startle slightly. “I suppose we are always drawn to it around this time of year.”

“It?” I questioned, turning to find the owner of the voice. “What is it?”

There was no one standing around me, no one talking to me. So, who did that voice belong to? I looked around once more before walking towards the gathered people who were enjoying the holiday to the fullest. It was fun to see people walking around in their costumes. Feeling eyes on me, I turned to see a baby who was staring up at me eyes wide. I smiled, tilting my head slightly, and made a funny face, hoping to see the baby laugh in glee. I had always loved children, loved hearing them laugh and seeing their tiny smiles light up their faces.

The baby smiled before letting out a squeal of laughter that had me giggling right along with it. From her little stroller, I could see her ladybug costume had a matching headband she apparently did not want to wear. I made another funny face, wanting to hear that peal of laughter she gave me earlier. I smiled softly when she laughed before watching as her mother looked down at her with a smile on her face as well. Being a mom must be hard, I thought, looking at the tired lines of her face. Why was it that this felt so familiar?

“Cynthia, what are you laughing at?” The mom asked before I stood up and walked towards the sidewalk. “Did you see a funny costume over there?”

As the mother’s voice faded along the sound of the crowd, I saw a familiar face in between the people causing me to freeze. It was a little girl, standing with a plastic tote wearing a witch’s hat and cape. She was so cute as she bounced on her heels, excitement coursing through her as she tried her best to wait patiently. I tilted my head at the sight of her standing next to her sister and had to wonder exactly what was going on. Lifting my hand up to my head, I stared at the little girl in shock before a pulse seemed to blur my vision.

Slowly, I could see the flash of a camera and looking to my left, I could see the man holding it with a smile on his face. It felt odd to see this, such a familiar scene, and it left me feeling slightly dizzy. I turned around to see if anyone else felt out of place, but everyone was going about their business as usual. Tilting my head, I looked back over my shoulder at the little girl and her sister. It was clear that my mind was just playing tricks on me, that this was just FEELING familiar and was not true. I frowned slightly before walking away, back towards the street I used to live on.

“Hello, I’m with the newspaper. We wanted to include a picture of your girls on the front page.” The man’s voice faded into the crowd.

As I walked away, I ignored the pang in my heart of seeing something that might hurt. Passing by the old bar, I happened to glance into the window and saw another familiar girl playing pool with her friends. On her face was the happy smile of youth, one that reminded me of when I used to do things like that with my friends. But wait, I thought scratching my head as I looked in, coming to a complete stop as I stared at the girls. I thought this bar closed down when I was a teenager. Huh, they must have reopened it.

Turning my head away from the girl as I continued on the street towards the road I grew up on. I felt so weird, like my legs were full of lead as I continued to walk forward. What was going on here? Why was this happening? Slowly, the number of people I passed dwindled until there was no one around me again. The spooky decorations from Halloween were still hanging in the window, but it was still daylight outside. This feels really strange, but the thought left me until I again found myself standing on the corner of my street.

I looked to my left and saw a girl with her grandmother walking out of the old video store on the corner of my street. Tilting my head, I looked at the old videogame system in the little girl’s hands. With a sense of déjà vu, they turned down my street and began walking, so I followed. I wanted to see where they were going. The closer I got to where I knew my home was, the farther away the grandmother and her granddaughter seemed to get. Pretty soon, it was as though I were standing still as they walked through that old familiar door.

The house looked just as I always remembered. There was an old nineties model car sitting in the driveway to the right and the ‘little house’ as it were sat blissfully empty. Emotions curled through my chest as I looked at the porch where the old white swing’s chains clinked together in the wind. I could even see the leash of my favorite dog where it was tied up to one of the poles supporting the roof of the porch. I felt odd looking at it, as though I were completely outside my own body. I looked down at the concrete where I could still see the outline of my shoeprint from when I was little.

“So, you’ve found it? This must be your first Halloween.” Someone said, causing me to look up and around myself. “Haha, your home. The place you feel you belong in this world. Are you still confused?”

I could understand the words the voice was saying easy enough, but not the meaning behind them. First Halloween? This world? What did all of that mean? I shook my head and tried to make sense of what this person was telling me, but nothing was coming to mind. I felt confused and lost, unable to take a step into the yard of the house I had known was my home. Why? My house is right there, so why can I not cross the yard and walk in? I can say hello to my grandparents the way I always did when I came home when I do.

“You are a ghost. You have been roaming this earth looking for home. Now that you’re here, you’re afraid of what you’ll find on the other side of that door.” The voice spoke again, causing me to startle. “Go on then. Walk through that door. On Halloween, the spirits are closer to the human realm, so find what you are looking for.”

Now it came back to me. Home. Not with my friends but here, at this house. This was my home. Finally, my foot lifted onto the step that led to the porch. One after another, I traveled up the steps and to the door. Slowly, I reached out to grab the screen door and pressed the button with my thumb to open it. I could hear through the door, the sound of my grandfather talking about history while watching his usual news channel. I propped the screen door open with my foot and reached for the doorknob to the front door. I am finally Home.

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