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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1313515-A-Strange-Night
Rated: E · Other · Death · #1313515
A ghost story that proves Love doesn't stop after death.
A Strange Night

    It was a warm August night in Littleton.  As Andrea was walking home she felt as though someone was following her.  Andrea is 5’4”, 140lbs, with dark brown hair, pale blue eyes, and pale skin.  She isn’t built right for fighting, very small frame and weak looking.  She fears the shadows and the night because of this, many attackers would pick her because of her looks.
    Andrea’s home is three blocks from her work, at a convenience store.  Normally she works from 8am-4pm and has no problems walking to and from work, but she was called in to work for a sick co-worker who took the 4pm to 12am shift.  She only had to work until ten, and then the 12am-8am worker would come in early to cover the rest.  This was done for her many times so she thought she owed this person, despite her fear.  Little did she know what lay ahead on this night.
    As Andrea walked out the door of the convenience store she looked around.  The familiar traffic light on Third Street was now flashing red, to indicate a four way stop.  As she started toward the light she wondered why they flashed at night and worked properly during the day, and then decided it was another way for the city to save money on running them.  She crossed the street and walked to the alley that cut down Third Street.  She was surrounded by large apartment buildings on both sides.  The shadow it cast reminded her of one of those cop shows that showed a college girl walking along a path through a bunch of dorms and someone jumped her from behind one of them.  All Andrea could think to do was walk on down the street as fast as she could and get to the park.
    As soon as Andrea got to the other side of the alley she got a sensation someone was watching her.  She turned, but no one was there.  She was sure it was the shadowing of the buildings doing it so she ran to the next corner and crossed, noting that the lights on this street weren’t even working, there was four way stop sign post in the center of the street.  She crossed the street and felt a little better, but the feeling of eyes on her was still there.  “At least there are no buildings for people to hide in or around,” she thought as she scanned the park across the street and the block wide vacant lot next to her.  There was a sign that said the lot was to become apart of the park and she thought she saw it bend under pressure, as though someone was leaning on it; but it was impossible she was looking right at it and no one was there.
    Andrea continued on down the block to the corner.  There she went across the street at another blinking light, this time yellow.  She didn’t understand why there was a yield at such a busy street.  This was another block of apartment buildings, this side of the street had five buildings and hers was the third.  That feeling of eyes following her was still with her and her fear was creeping up on her again.  She got to her building at a sprint and the guard let her in.  She felt better inside, but there was still something wrong.
    Andrea went to her apartment on the first floor.  She got inside and locked her door like she always did at night.  She then did her usual after work stuff:  bathe, change, wash the uniform, and eat (though she changed into pajamas and ate a small snack).  As she went to comb her hair before going to be she noticed her brush on the floor.  She couldn’t understand it because she was sure she had put it back on the dressing table before leaving for work.  When she went to pick it up it felt like a 150lb person was standing on it.  She tugged and tugged and couldn’t get it up so she stood up. 
    When she stood up she was facing her mirror and saw a figure behind her.  She screamed and turned, but no one was there.  She turned back and started studying the figure.  It was a male, about 6’ tall and very well built.  He looked like a shadow standing there, Andrea could only make out an outline.  As she looked she began to understand the feeling she felt walking home and wondered where he was and how he got into her room. 
    The figure moved forward in the mirror and was within touching distance of Andrea’s reflection.  This scared her a bit, but she still studied him.  She began to get a different feeling, like she knew him.  The figure pointed to something behind the real Andrea and, though this didn’t match her own face, Andrea’s reflection showed a look of mixed surprise and understanding.  The real Andrea, not understanding what was going on, turned around and saw her calendar.  She went to look at it and saw that today’s date was marked “Michael’s Death”.
    As Andrea looked at the calendar she felt a hand touch her.  She turned, and jumped a bit, and saw Michael.  He was her boyfriend, but he had died in a car crash.  She couldn’t understand what was going on.  He smiled and disappeared, as did the shadow reflection in the mirror.  He had been the one following her, but she couldn’t understand.
    The next morning she woke up and turned on the news.  Today was her day off so she had some time to think about what happened before she had to walk to work again.  She was only half listening to the news when a weird story caught her attention.
    “In other news, Eric Jenson has been apprehended mere hours after his escape,” came the reporter’s voice, “Eric Jenson was arrested and tried for DUI and Vehicular Manslaughter six years ago and sentenced to fifteen years without parole.  The key witness was the girlfriend of the victim who watched the victim get slammed by Jenson as he tried to go through a broken traffic light.  None of the lights were working right on Third Street that night, in fact; just like last night.  And where Jenson was found was in the alley on Third Street, a half way between the location the witness worked and the intersection where the victim was hit.  The witness was reported as having been home for barely a few minutes when the arrest was made on an anonymous tip.”
    Andrea dropped her cup at this.  She knew Michael had come back to protect her.  She was the witness and Jenson was after revenge.  Those lights weren’t done purposely by the city; they were on the fritz and needed fixed, as usual.  Michael knew Jenson was out and why and he knew Andrea well enough to know how she’d feel about being out at night and played on that to make sure Jenson couldn’t do what he wanted to do.  She also felt sure Michael was the “anonymous tip”, though she didn’t know why she was sure of this.  She also recalled a story that Michael had told her about guardian angels using loved ones to send help to humans because the human may not be able to handle an angel’s presence, the angel has more than one person to look after, or the human is too stubborn to listen to an angel, but grandma is still very well respected and will work better.  Andrea thought this was crazy, but she isn’t so sure.  Michael was so sure and swore he’d prove it to her someday, and last night was that day.
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