Post by Babu Baboon on Oct 8, 2013 8:26:36 GMT -6
John and Martha Kendall moved into an apartment complex in one of the poorer
areas of the city. The couple was childless, but they planned to change that
someday, once they had saved enough to buy a house. They realized this wasn't
the best of neighborhoods… not the place to think of starting a family. So this
move would just be temporary.
Over time, they became acquainted with the couple who lived in the apartment
above them, Sara and Tom. They were a nice looking couple and they put on a
pleasant facade to the outside world. But from the sounds coming through John
and Martha's ceiling, it was obvious that their marriage was a volatile one.
The couple fought constantly. Usually, it was Sara tearing into her husband: He
didn't bring home enough money… He wasn't a man, just a boy… He was a mama's
boy and not man enough to tell his mother to quit butting in… She could have
had any man she wanted and it was a crying shame she hadn't gone with one of
them.
"Why doesn't he just walk out?" Martha said testily, listening to the row above
them.
"I guess she's got him so beaten down he can't even think of leaving," John
shrugged.
From time to time, when the arguments became particularly heated, shots would
ring out from the 38 special the man owned. Martha was shocked to find most of
the neighbors had gotten used to it. "He ought to lock that thing up," the old
woman who lived next door said when Martha mentioned it . "She's a drinker."
"There they go again!" Martha said after it happened for the third time. "I'm
calling the police."
"What good will it do?" John said. "We've been through this before. They'll
both just claim the gun just went off accidentally."
"This isn't going to end well," Martha said. "Mark my words."
One night, the thing Martha had feared would happen for months finally did. The
couple got into one of their usual heated arguments. But this time, it ended
when the woman shot Tom with his own gun. After staggering to their apartment,
Tom collapsed on John and Martha's porch, before their front door. He had
obviously been coming to them for help.
Martha was the one to find the dying man. "John! John! Call 911!"
After a lengthy interrogation, Sara was allowed to go. No charges were brought
against her after she pleaded self-defense.
Less than a week after Tom's death, Martha noticed that her neighbor began to
behave irrationally. …Or, at least, more irrationally than usual. She became
jittery and claimed to have seen Tom in her bedroom on several occasions.
Sara described to Martha an incident she had experienced one rainy night. She
had heard a scratching coming from outside. When she threw the window sill open
to peer outside, she saw a form climbing up the wall below her bedroom window.
With a boom of thunder and lightning, he was illuminated and she saw her
husband's glaring, rain spattered face clear as day. Shortly after that, the
woman packed up and moved out of the apartment. No one ever saw her again.
Then, one night about six weeks after Tom's death, Martha and John were
entertaining friends and family. Their reverie was interrupted as a fierce
thunderstorm moved in with flashes of lightning, high winds and pouring rain.
The storm lasted for more than twenty minutes. The festive mood seemed to leave
with the storm and everyone began preparing to leave for home.
John and Martha walked to the door with their guests. Martha was the first to
reach the doorway, only to find that something was blocking the screen door. But
she couldn't see anything that could be obstructing it. After shoving hard a few
times, the door finally opened and she stepped out onto the rain drenched porch
and saw something unusual.
Even though the entire porch was soaking wet, the area in front of their doorway
was bone dry. Even stranger was the fact that the dry spot was in the shape of a
human being. And it was lying in the fetal position, the way Tom had fallen
after his wife shot him.
When Martha pointed it out, most of them tried to dismiss it. …Even her own
husband. No one wanted to believe it could be anything more than an amazing
coincidence.
That night, Martha and John had their first big row. Martha was furious at John
for denying the evidence that was right before his eyes. John thought Martha
was letting her imagination run away with her.
Things seemed to go into a downward spiral from there. Martha began to see the
shape of a man from the corner of her eye, repeatedly, when she knew John was
nowhere in the apartment. Sometimes, when she looked in the mirror, for a split
second, she thought she saw someone standing behind her. When she'd turn
around, no one was there.
"I wish we could move away from here like Sara," Martha sighed.
"You know we can't do that," John said. "We're trying to save for the down
payment on a house. We can't throw all that away because you've let yourself get
spooked." And that was when the fighting would start again.
Martha began to worry about the strife this was causing their marriage. Would
they go the way of Sara and Tom? At least John didn't own a gun.
One night, Sara was awoken by a scratching noise. She looked over at her
sleeping husband. He could sleep through an earthquake, she thought to herself.
She slipped on her housecoat and walked out of her bedroom and down the hallway
towards the scratching noise. It seemed to be coming from the other side of the
front door.
Against her better judgment, she opened the front door. What she saw made her
let out a gasp.
At the foot of the doorway lay Tom, on his side in the fetal position, just as
she had found him the night he died. He held up his hand up towards her and his
eyes held a pleading expression.
Her legs almost seemed to move on their own as she knelt down towards him. She
cradled his head in her hands and tears filled her eyes. She began to stroke
his head and spoke in soothing tones. "It's going to be okay. I'm here now.
You'll be alright."
Tom turned to look up at her, his eyes now calm and at rest. "Thank you." And
then he disappeared. That was all he had been looking for: compassion and
understanding. It had been denied to him in his marriage and in his death. He
had it now and he was at peace.
Martha turned to see a stunned John standing behind her. He held out his hand to
help her up. "L- L-lets go back to bed now."
After that, the fighting between Martha and John stopped. They were back to
their old selves. Eventually, they had enough money for the down payment on a
house in a nice suburban neighborhood. Just in time, too, since Martha was
pregnant.
Several months later, a baby boy was born. As the nurse handed the baby to
Martha, she looked up at John and said, "I'd like to name him Tom."
"That sounds like a good idea to me," John agreed, smiling down at his wife and
their new son.
areas of the city. The couple was childless, but they planned to change that
someday, once they had saved enough to buy a house. They realized this wasn't
the best of neighborhoods… not the place to think of starting a family. So this
move would just be temporary.
Over time, they became acquainted with the couple who lived in the apartment
above them, Sara and Tom. They were a nice looking couple and they put on a
pleasant facade to the outside world. But from the sounds coming through John
and Martha's ceiling, it was obvious that their marriage was a volatile one.
The couple fought constantly. Usually, it was Sara tearing into her husband: He
didn't bring home enough money… He wasn't a man, just a boy… He was a mama's
boy and not man enough to tell his mother to quit butting in… She could have
had any man she wanted and it was a crying shame she hadn't gone with one of
them.
"Why doesn't he just walk out?" Martha said testily, listening to the row above
them.
"I guess she's got him so beaten down he can't even think of leaving," John
shrugged.
From time to time, when the arguments became particularly heated, shots would
ring out from the 38 special the man owned. Martha was shocked to find most of
the neighbors had gotten used to it. "He ought to lock that thing up," the old
woman who lived next door said when Martha mentioned it . "She's a drinker."
"There they go again!" Martha said after it happened for the third time. "I'm
calling the police."
"What good will it do?" John said. "We've been through this before. They'll
both just claim the gun just went off accidentally."
"This isn't going to end well," Martha said. "Mark my words."
One night, the thing Martha had feared would happen for months finally did. The
couple got into one of their usual heated arguments. But this time, it ended
when the woman shot Tom with his own gun. After staggering to their apartment,
Tom collapsed on John and Martha's porch, before their front door. He had
obviously been coming to them for help.
Martha was the one to find the dying man. "John! John! Call 911!"
After a lengthy interrogation, Sara was allowed to go. No charges were brought
against her after she pleaded self-defense.
Less than a week after Tom's death, Martha noticed that her neighbor began to
behave irrationally. …Or, at least, more irrationally than usual. She became
jittery and claimed to have seen Tom in her bedroom on several occasions.
Sara described to Martha an incident she had experienced one rainy night. She
had heard a scratching coming from outside. When she threw the window sill open
to peer outside, she saw a form climbing up the wall below her bedroom window.
With a boom of thunder and lightning, he was illuminated and she saw her
husband's glaring, rain spattered face clear as day. Shortly after that, the
woman packed up and moved out of the apartment. No one ever saw her again.
Then, one night about six weeks after Tom's death, Martha and John were
entertaining friends and family. Their reverie was interrupted as a fierce
thunderstorm moved in with flashes of lightning, high winds and pouring rain.
The storm lasted for more than twenty minutes. The festive mood seemed to leave
with the storm and everyone began preparing to leave for home.
John and Martha walked to the door with their guests. Martha was the first to
reach the doorway, only to find that something was blocking the screen door. But
she couldn't see anything that could be obstructing it. After shoving hard a few
times, the door finally opened and she stepped out onto the rain drenched porch
and saw something unusual.
Even though the entire porch was soaking wet, the area in front of their doorway
was bone dry. Even stranger was the fact that the dry spot was in the shape of a
human being. And it was lying in the fetal position, the way Tom had fallen
after his wife shot him.
When Martha pointed it out, most of them tried to dismiss it. …Even her own
husband. No one wanted to believe it could be anything more than an amazing
coincidence.
That night, Martha and John had their first big row. Martha was furious at John
for denying the evidence that was right before his eyes. John thought Martha
was letting her imagination run away with her.
Things seemed to go into a downward spiral from there. Martha began to see the
shape of a man from the corner of her eye, repeatedly, when she knew John was
nowhere in the apartment. Sometimes, when she looked in the mirror, for a split
second, she thought she saw someone standing behind her. When she'd turn
around, no one was there.
"I wish we could move away from here like Sara," Martha sighed.
"You know we can't do that," John said. "We're trying to save for the down
payment on a house. We can't throw all that away because you've let yourself get
spooked." And that was when the fighting would start again.
Martha began to worry about the strife this was causing their marriage. Would
they go the way of Sara and Tom? At least John didn't own a gun.
One night, Sara was awoken by a scratching noise. She looked over at her
sleeping husband. He could sleep through an earthquake, she thought to herself.
She slipped on her housecoat and walked out of her bedroom and down the hallway
towards the scratching noise. It seemed to be coming from the other side of the
front door.
Against her better judgment, she opened the front door. What she saw made her
let out a gasp.
At the foot of the doorway lay Tom, on his side in the fetal position, just as
she had found him the night he died. He held up his hand up towards her and his
eyes held a pleading expression.
Her legs almost seemed to move on their own as she knelt down towards him. She
cradled his head in her hands and tears filled her eyes. She began to stroke
his head and spoke in soothing tones. "It's going to be okay. I'm here now.
You'll be alright."
Tom turned to look up at her, his eyes now calm and at rest. "Thank you." And
then he disappeared. That was all he had been looking for: compassion and
understanding. It had been denied to him in his marriage and in his death. He
had it now and he was at peace.
Martha turned to see a stunned John standing behind her. He held out his hand to
help her up. "L- L-lets go back to bed now."
After that, the fighting between Martha and John stopped. They were back to
their old selves. Eventually, they had enough money for the down payment on a
house in a nice suburban neighborhood. Just in time, too, since Martha was
pregnant.
Several months later, a baby boy was born. As the nurse handed the baby to
Martha, she looked up at John and said, "I'd like to name him Tom."
"That sounds like a good idea to me," John agreed, smiling down at his wife and
their new son.