A walk always puts my mind at ease. After a day of going through the motions of working and being perceived through unwanted eyes; a walk through a quiet neighbor at night is always a treat. No one is around other than the families in their homes shielding themselves from the darkness that lay outside. Or are they hiding from more?
People watching has always been a fun way to experience life without doing anything for yourself. It’s especially the best when walking by a house with the curtains open and the lights on at night. It always has seemed like a play to me. A spotlight on a never ending cast of characters performing a never ending play. Except they think their performance is genuine.
While watching them sit and smile with one another, you sometimes catch a glimpse of uncertaintainty. A twinge of unfamiliarity with their surroundings. A primal instinct to ruin the contentment that has been ingrained into their lives. But most don’t act on these instincts. People love to not break character. They have their lines written for them and must put on the performance of a lifetime. People need patterns to keep them sane.
As I walk past these houses I am guarded by large trees who seem to only look down on me. With their arms and hands extended towards downward; whether to help me up or stop me in my tracks I’m not sure. The pattern of trees are a welcome sight. Unchanging from one to another other than the branches that define them. Even the houses and the families that reside in them are alike. Except for one.
One home has been empty for all my excursions through this neighborhood. No cars in the driveway, no curtains to close, no spotlight illuminating a performance. The home has been taken by darkness. A cold exterior differs from the warm, cared for homes that surround it. This house is guarded by a for sale sign that has been overtaken by weeds grabbing it from the ground. I never stop to dwell on why this home has laid dormant for so long. Except for tonight.
Something is different. I feel drawn to the home. Like a meteor caught by the gravitational pull of a planet. Drawn in to only crash and burn on its surface. My legs slowly carry me up the broken and overgrown pathway to the front door. I now stand on the porch, no light to keep me company. The sounds of night have all abandoned me along with any control I had over my body and mind. I stand before a colossal door, looking down on me like a judge peering down on the accused.
It keeps me from what lies inside. As I lay my hand on the handle I feel warm. My heart is starting to beat more rapidly. Whether it’s anxiety or excitement, it’s something I haven’t felt in a long time. After a small turn, the doorknob clicks. The door seemingly opens itself and what stands before me is a wall of darkness. Darkness that stands out even on a moonless night like tonight. Before I know it I’m entering the home.
The door closes behind me as I enter and I stand in a room so absent of light that it seemingly goes on forever. I cannot move because I have nowhere to go. Reflecting on the mistakes that lead me here is my only option for the time being. Until I notice a faint light coming from down a hallway. A light that is attached to the wall presents a clear path for me. I question how this home still has electricity only for a brief second before my legs carry me towards the light.
The floorboards creak beneath me. In the silence of the empty home each creak sounds like a tree falling in the woods. Alerting anyone who may lay within. When I’m only a few steps from the light, I peer into a room through a cracked door. Another light with barely any life illuminates a furnished bedroom. With a slight push the door slowly swings open. My heart has now calmed from its previous rapid thrashing.
A familiarity rushes over me almost instantly. I once resided in this room. The dresser which I stood in front of every day to decide which costume to wear. A bed in which I used to lay awake at night wondering how to break out of the life I lived. But I didn’t lay alone.
A woman laid next to me. Arms usually wrapped around me, keeping chained down. She slept silently through the night as my brain screamed at me. Yes it’s all coming back to me now. A family did live here at one point. I resided with them as an observer. This home was once a stage for the perfect performance. They performed the story of a loving family. I was a part of this play until I forgot my lines. But maybe I never knew them.
I turned to walk away from the room that brought these memories back to me. As I turn to face the hall I’m greeted by an open door. A night light in the shape of a rainbow shined through the doorway. A light that used to comfort the child who lived at home with me and the woman. Before she was born I thought things might change.
My heart beat rapidly as she entered my world. As I entered the hospital room to hold her for the first time I felt warm. Ready to take part in a new act. My excitement ended as quickly as it arrived when I held the baby. I felt nothing looking down on what was given to me. I feel nothing remembering this now.
I close the door and start heading back the way I came. Memories rush at me like assailants hiding in the shadows. Memories of breakfasts, and games. Arguments, and forgiveness. All just memories to me now as I turn my back on this home to leave one final time. But instead of heading towards the front door, my legs turn right. In front of me now lies the glass doors to the backyard.
As I gaze upon the yard shielded by a wooden fence, I now feel as if I’m being watched. I feel as if the eyes of strangers glare at me on this dimly lit stage. I stand there before them vulnerable to their judgements. But the performance has been over for some time. I take my bow and open the door to greet the audience.
The audience is made up of two actors. Two actors who once joined me on stage. They were lucky enough to be freed from the binds of carrying out a never ending play. They now lay covered by a blanket of soil and grass. A shield to protect them from the darkness that lay above. I reflect on the most genuine performance that they ever gave this world. They showed emotions that I have yet to see from anyone else.
I still remember their faces when the final act started. I’m sure even after all these years their faces remain contorted from a once fake smile to a face of pure terror and betrayal.
As time goes on I’ll surely again forget about my first ever leading role. As I walk out of the house and back down the street from where I came; I think one last time on what once was. A home with a warm glow, now turned into a shell of its former self. I’ve reached the end of my walk and I’m comforted by being back in the car that brought me to the neighborhood. I must now go perform on another stage with another cast.