Surprise!

Surprise! by Anja Beth S.   It loomed over me. Large, beautiful, historic, these it was, but I still couldn’t think of it as home. “ Why did Mom have to move us out here?” I thought, not for the first time. My mother, a hopeless romantic, had bought the Victorian with the intriguing back-story sight unseen. I, being the practical one of the two of us, had tried to convince her it was a silly flight of fancy, but to no avail. I trudged up the steps and opened the creaking door. I plunked my homework down on the old table and headed up to “my” room. The lavender walls and old-timey décor just weren’t me. I wished I were back in our comfy London flat. As I sat down on the bed, I shivered a little. I didn’t believe in ghosts and that weird sort of paranormal stuff, but the story behind our new house was creepy, I had to admit. It was said that long ago, a young girl with a promising future who lived in what was now our house had drowned in the pond out back. She was still rumored to haunt the house with her cries. Of course, the tragic story had captivated my mother. I decided that I had better get a start on the essay my English teacher had assigned. I tiptoed down the steps, for I couldn’t remember which step it was that was liable to fall in if anyone put too much weight on it. I grabbed my notebook and a pencil and went to sit in the living room. The large picture window offered an astounding view of the ocean to which we were so near, the gray waves crashing with a mighty boom onto the craggy rocks. Just as I was starting to write, a high wailing noise penetrated my thoughts. I drew in a sharp breath as I remembered the story. “ Don’t be silly,” I told myself, “It’s probably just the wind”. I buckled down and kept writing, but the sound just kept getting louder and more mournful. I found myself shivering involuntarily. Too distracted to keep writing, I decided to search for the cause of the eerie noise. I crept out onto the weathered old porch, but there was nary a breeze off the ocean to cause the ghostly noise. Back inside, I kept glancing back over my shoulder and then telling myself that I was being irrational and that there had to be a logical explanation. I tiptoed back up the stairs and peeked around my doorframe. Suddenly, something billowed in front of me. I jumped back in fright, and then laughed nervously when I realized it was my white coat. I had left the window open because it had been a nice day. Not so now. Ominous black clouds moved threateningly across the sky that was growing ever grayer, and a strong wind had kicked up. Then I realized something. The sound, still growing louder, was not the wind and was not coming from any of the second-floor bedrooms. That meant only one thing. It was coming from the attic. The attic, the place I had not dared venture since the day we moved in. It was drafty and cold, filled to the brim with boxes and old furniture covered in sheets. The former owners had left quite suddenly, for an unexplained reason, leaving all but a few of their belongings behind to collect dust. Already shaken from the surprise of the coat, I trembled as I walked up the stairs, muttering to myself. “It’s nothing, Marie”. I repeated, in the vain hopes that it would calm my pounding heart. I climbed warily up the steps to the miniature door. I put one foot down, testing the boards to see if they were capable of holding even my under-average frame. Miraculously, it held, and I stood upright, cautiously observing the sheet-draped figures. The sound was almost unbearable now, and I knew it was close. Ever so slowly, I forced myself to lift up one sheet. I heaved a sigh of relief when there was nothing. But I still hadn’t found the source of the unearthly noise. It seemed to come from the corner. I walked carefully over there, each step calculated. The sound grew louder and more uncanny with every step. It was decidedly nonhuman. I reached out, closing my eyes, and pulled the sheet off quickly. When I saw what was inside, I gasped. And then broke out in laughter. The cause of all my fright, the eerie, otherworldly noise? It was a kitten, making a most unusual sound. It was bedraggled and skinny and looked as if it hadn’t been fed in a while. Still, it was adorable. I knew my mother, with her characteristic soft-heartedness, would welcome a new family member. Sometimes it did get lonely, just the two of us. I walked down the stairs with the small fluffy bundle in my arms. I settled in on the couch and got to work on my interrupted essay. Just then my mother walked in, still in sweats from her yoga class. “Oh, how adorable!” she said. // How typical of her to rush straight to “how adorable!” and completely skip “Where’d it come from,” // I thought. “Yes, isn’t she cute?” I said. “Where’d you get her?” my mother asked. “It’s a long story. ”