The Mysterious Man With A Cane

The Mysterious Man With A Cane



When I was approximately twelve or thirteen years old my family was invited to a weekend outing at my Uncle's house, which was about a three and half hour drive away from the town we lived in. I didn't especially want to go and so I asked my parents if I could remain at home by myself. Having never been left overnight by myself my parents discussed between themselves and finally agreed I could.
My first full day alone was spent quite typically; I went bike riding with my friends and played softball at the park. That night I rather enjoyed making my own 'gourmet' dinner; two peanutbutter & fluff sandwiches and a cup of hot cocoa. Afterward I had a shower and then settled into my father's overstuffed chair in the living room to watch television.
About an hour passed before I heard somebody at the front door. Remembering I had left the door unlocked I shouted "come on in." A moment later a bearded man dressed in a long, black, coat and top hat appeared in the foyer. From where I was seated I could see he was carrying a cane. I didn't recognize him, but I assumed he must be somebody who knew my parents. So, I told him my parents had gone away overnight and that they wouldn't be home until the following evening. He smiled at me, but didn't say a word. Then, instead of him turning around to leave, he crossed the hallway and started up the front stairs.
I rushed to the bottom of the stairs to tell him he couldn't go up there, but he was nowhere in sight. Yet, I definitely heard his footsteps on the stairs. I didn't know whether I should follow him upstairs or go to get my friend's father from next door. I switched-on the foyer light and quietly stood thinking for a moment. Then, I shouted up the stairs "hello, are you up there?" But, there was no answer. I waited another moment or two and then I bravely started up the stairs. Halfway up the stairs I stopped to call out again "hello..., hello." But, still there was no answer. I carefully climbed the last few stairs and finally reached the landing on the second floor.
"Hello," I shouted again as I looked up and down the hallway. Then, I noticed the door to my parent's bedroom was open. I began to get a little fearful because my parents never left their bedroom door open. And, I was quite sure it was closed when I had been upstairs earlier.

I simply loved your story!! Thanks so much for sharing!!! :)

Glad you enjoyed. Thanks!

Cheers,
Durant

Hi,

Is writing your hobby, or your vocation?
I didn't skim through your story, it kept me engrossed.
Loved it, thanks.

Glad

Hi,

Is writing your hobby, or your vocation?
I didn't skim through your story, it kept me engrossed.
Loved it, thanks.

Glad

Hi Glad,

Over the years I've had a few short stories and some of my poetry published, but writing is basically a hobby I enjoy.

Glad you enjoyed!

Thank you!

Cheers,

Durant

That was brilliant! Really well told, i was engrossed!
It reminded me of a house i used to live in, about ten years ago now. Things used to disappear the reappear. Strange noises and banging about in the cellar, which was in fact, the kitchen. One night i heard banging coming from downstairs. I stood up ( thinking someone had come in through the cellar door) and stomped across the living room floor, trying for all my worth to sound like a big man instead of a scared woman, towards the top of the cellar steps with an empty wine bottle in my hand, raised above my head. Dont laugh!! As i got to the top of the stairs i heard a voice whisper I MY EAR (!!!) "move over, let me in". I was totally frozen to the spot, but my brain was still working, just, and said "no way". When i found the use of my legs again, i shot upstairs and woke up my partner and told him to go into the kitchen because i thought someone had come in through the cellar door. He came back upstairs moaning his head off. the kitchen was empty and the door was locked. I hated that house. It was weird.

:?

Hi Sashwah,

Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed.

You've told a pretty good story yourself!

Cheers,

Durant