brimington-way
Brimington Way, EL
I moved recently; that’s when it all started.
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April 04, 2022
I was sitting on my front porch. It was foggy out, so foggy, I couldn’t see the mountains. Actually, I couldn’t see anything around me. It’s like my house was encased in fog.
But I could hear something, weeping, like someone deep in the forest behind my home was crying quietly to themself. There were no birds, no insects, no other sounds around me except for a soft breeze that danced in the trees, and that sound of a woman crying.
At first, I swore I was mishearing something, an animal in the dense woods. Some animals around here are like that; they make eerie noises during the nights, some sounding like whispers and others mimicking human screams, yet I’ve never heard one sound like a woman crying.
I held my breath, hearing my pulse in my ears and the calm wind, but I focused on the weeping. And to my shock, it sounded like it was gaining closer, creeping towards the back of my house, hiding in the grey fog.
My heart leapt into my throat, and for a moment, I was frozen, wondering what to do. Should I go see if she needs help? What if something happened? What if she’s hurt?
But my fear and intuition kept me planted in my black, metal rocking chair. I had a feeling, if she did need my help, she would find her way to my home and ask for it, but if she didn’t, she would continue on her way.
And with that thought, and my breath still locked in my lungs, I slowly rose from my red-cushioned seat, and I crept towards the dark blue front door, still hearing the woman’s cries gaining closer. I slipped inside and locked the door behind me, and I waited, standing still at the door, my hand hovering on the handle.
I heard no footsteps, yet the weeping was coming closer. My jaw tightened, as did my muscles, and I listened as the voice came closer until it was right in front of my porch.
But the voice did not stop. It continued, heading towards the right side, until it was so far away, it sounded like a distant echo once more.
However, I didn’t open the door. I continued to wait and listen until I no longer heard the voice, and once it disappeared completely, only then did I crack the storm door open.
The fog was gone, as if it had never been there in the first place, and the dusk sky greeted me with its soft purple and dark blue hues. Stars glistened gently, like the morning dew of early Spring, and there was no sign of fog on the mountains, nor any clouds in the sky.
It’s like the woman’s voice carried all of that along with her, leaving a beautiful, cloudless evening behind.
I still wonder, if I had opened the door, if I would have seen her in the fog, weeping to herself, or if she would have been invisible, nothing more than a faceless voice encased in the clouds.
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Feb. 25, 2022
There was a young woman crying on one of the park benches this morning as I was jogging. It was very odd, as I didn’t see her there when I first past that same bench, but I figured she somehow got into the park without me noticing.
I stopped and asked her what was wrong. She had her face in her hands, and she was wearing a long black trench coat, so I couldn’t tell if she was physically injured or not.
She mumbled something into her hands, but I had no idea what she said, so I asked her to repeat as I sat down beside her. She lifted her face a bit, but her stringy black hair was curtaining her facial features from my view.
“It’s all my fault.” Her voice was…off, distorted in a way, like she was once a heavy smoker, so heavy to the point it pitched her voice far lower than it should naturally be.
I asked her what she meant, if she could elaborate. I wanted to know if there was something I could do to help her through whatever turmoil she was facing.
She kept her head low, so I still couldn’t properly see her face, but I had this creeping feeling that she was looking at me out of the corner of her eyes.
“I dropped the cigarette on purpose, and I left him in his crib to burn.”
The hairs on the back of my neck raised, and I immediately stood up and backed away. At first, I thought I miss-heard her, but there’s no way I was going to have her repeat that.
No one else was in the park at that hour, so I couldn’t just call for anyone to run over in case things got out of hand.
She lifted her face a bit more, and I swear I saw round burns on her right cheek as if she had dug lit cigarettes into her skin, and her lips were chapped to the point of bleeding, and her eyes were completely blood-shot like she’d been crying for hours.
“I watched him turn to flame.” Her voice shook along with the shiver crawling up my spine.
I spun on my heel and bolted to the park exit, paranoid that every sound I heard was of the woman chasing after me. When I pushed through the black metal gates, I continued running for my life, but I stopped when I saw flashing blue and red lights.
Then, my nostrils inhaled smoke, and my stomach churned. And when I peeked around the corner, I saw an apartment building with a single room on fire, with police and the fire department trying to control the chaos. The officers were keeping pedestrians away while the fire department shot water into the open window where black smoke was pouring through.
I crept closer and stood on my toes to look over the crowd of people, and I saw a man in reflective fireproof clothing run out of the building. My eyes widened as I realized he was carrying the charred body of a baby.
I quickly slithered through the crowd to get to one of the officers, and when I got an older female officer’s attention, I explained what happened at the park. She sent a few men over there with me as the guide, and I led them to the exact same bench I was just sitting on…but the woman was nowhere to be seen.
In her place was a single, newly-lit cigarette, balancing on the edge of the wooden bench.
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