My wife and I were on our way home. We’d gone to dinner to try and work out some bubbling problems that we had ignored for too long and tried to see if there was a way to salvage what was left. It didn’t go great, and the ride home was uncomfortable. As we turned into the carport, my wife asked what have we decided, but before I could answer, the headlights illuminated a woman standing in the corner. Our carport is framed on four sides. There’s a fence to the left, a shed wall in the back, and the house to the right. The only way in is through the driveway. This woman stood to the left of the carport in the corner between the fence and the shed. She looked frozen in time. Her hands her up, almost like imitating a cat scratching at the air. Her head was slightly tilted, her eyes wide open, and her mouth ajar in a snarl. She looked like she was wearing a nightgown. Her age wasn’t imminently apparent. Her hair was gray, and her skin gray, but it didn’t seem particularly wrinkled.
As the headlights shined in her eyes, she had no reaction. She didn’t blink or turn her gaze. She just stood there. My wife hits the brakes, and we both stare at this woman. We don’t say a word to one another as we focus on this strange woman.
HONK
Breaking the silence, my wife lays on the horn. I jump a little from the sound, but the woman, the woman, never moves a muscle. We look at each, neither of us knowing what to do. My wife tells me to get out and see if she’s all right. I’m all for chivalry and being a man’s man, but at that moment, I knew a stupid idea when I heard it, so instead, I rolled the window down and asked if she was okay and needed help. No response. My wife hits the horn again, and nothing. Neither of us wants to get out of the car, so my wife takes out her phone and dials 911. The operator asks for a description of the woman and our address. The operator tells her to stay on the line till the police arrive.
There’s a knock on the window, and my wife and I both jump. It’s the babysitter. She asked why we were blowing the horn and did we need something. I tell her to run back into the house and point toward the woman, but she’s not there. The woman is gone. I asked my wife if she saw where the woman had gone, but she didn’t. We’d both turned our attention to the babysitter and didn’t see where she went. I tell the babysitter to get back in the house and lock the door. The 911 operator asks if everything is okay, and my wife tells them the woman has gone. The fucking operator asks if we still need the police. Of course, we do. Just cause we didn’t see her move doesn’t mean she’s gone. My wife doesn’t want to get out of the car, and neither do I.
I try to look around the window to see if I can spot her, but it’s too dark. My wife asked if she went inside while the babysitter was out here, and we weren’t looking. Maybe she ran inside the house. I think about it, but it seems impossible. There’s no way she could have moved that distance without being seen. My wife thinks I’m being dismissive and gets pissed. I’m trying to maintain, but I lose my temper as well, and before I know it, we’re having a full-on fight about the plausibility of if the woman is inside or not. My wife says to call the babysitter to check and make sure she and the kids are safe before the police arrive.
I call, and the babysitter doesn’t answer. I try again, and still no answer. I send a text and get no reply. Now, my wife and I are getting nervous. I say fuck it. I’m going in to check. My wife doesn’t want to be alone in the car, so I say to come with me. She’s not sure about leaving the car either. I tell her I’m going in the house, and she can come or stay. It’s up to her. She asks the 911 operator how far the police are, and they say maybe five minutes, which sounds like an eternity given the situation. So we both decide to get out and go inside to make sure everyone is okay.
I tell her I’ll get out first to unlock the door, and when it’s safe, she runs for it. Great. I get out, reach the door, get the key, and open it. I glance inside and yell for the kids and the babysitter, but no one answers. I turn back to the car, and my wife is gone. I shout her name but hear nothing. She’s gone. The car door is still closed. It looks like she vanished. I yell inside for the babysitter and the kids one last time before I go back outside to check the car. I don’t see anyone in the car. I turn around for the house, and in the headlights, I see my wife in the corner of the carport.
Same frozen pose as the woman. Same body language same expression. I say her name, but she doesn’t look at me. She doesn’t flinch, nothing. I step closer to her, and there’s still no reaction. I grab her arm, and she lets out this horrible high-pitched scream. I say “let out” ‘cause that’s the only way to describe it. The sound sort of just emirates from her gaped mouth. Her face doesn’t move. Her mouth doesn’t tremble. She’s still as a statue, with this horrible scream echoing out of her throat. I stop my hand and pull it away, and the screaming stops. I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to leave her alone, but the thought of the babysitter and kids not answering is at the front of my mind. What might have happened to my wife if this had happened to them? I tell her I’ll be right back, the police are on their way, but I have to check on the kids. I turn and run for the front door and go inside.
It’s dark, with only a few lights on here and there. I shout for anyone to answer me. Where are they? Are they okay? But get no response. I try the babysitter’s phone and can hear the ringing upstairs. So I run to the sound.
As I get to the top of the stairs, all the bedroom doors are closed. Behind the kids’ bedroom door, I can hear the babysitter’s phone. I open it up, and my two sons and the babysitter are in the corona of the bedroom. My two sons crouch on the ground, and the babysitter sits with her arms around them. They don’t move, these faces of terror frozen in place. I shout their names, but they don’t respond. I follow their eye line to the far side of the room, but I don’t see anything.
I run over to them, but before I put a hand on them, the same scream that emanated from my wife’s throat comes from theirs. I stop, pull my hands away, and they stop screaming. I turn to follow their eye line, and I don’t see anything, only an empty corner. I hear the sirens outside in the distance. The police are almost here. I don’t know what they can do, but at least there’s help. I look back to the empty corner, and there she is, the woman from the driveway. She doesn’t move, same frozen expression and the same pose. Nothing has changed. It’s as though someone picked her up from downstairs and carried her up.
I stand and approach the woman. She doesn’t seem to react. I notice my body tremble as I get closer to her. Everything in me says to run and get as far from this woman as possible, but I keep walking closer. I match her eye line as I move toward her. I look directly into her dark black eyes. Inches from her face, I raise my hand as I did to my wife and children. I expect to hear that same guttural scream, but nothing happens. I grasp her arm. The woman’s face doesn’t move, but her body leans forward, and her head stretches toward my ear. It seems like everything is in slow motion, and I can’t let go of her arm. I can’t escape that snarled mouth as it leans beside my ear. I don’t feel breathe when she speaks. Her words come out as if from a single, long exhale. She says, “my family now.”
I couldn’t move. I looked into those cold, dead eyes, and the snarl on her face stretched and popped as it agonized from that stiff snarl to the worst smile I’d ever seen. She let go, and the room went black as I fell to the ground. I woke up to an empty home. I’ve been over every inch and can’t find any sign of them. I’ve called my wife and the babysitter’s phone, but it goes straight to voice mail. Right now, the police are around pulling up outside, and I’m not sure what I will tell them, but I know they won’t believe me.