Lost and Alone

Lost and Alone

Knock, knock, knock.

The sound of a simple rhythmic beating on the door was the beginning of a startling, unsettling and terrifying experience. Gradually growing louder, the knocks seem to be getting more angry if that is even possible to assign emotion to a sound. Bang! Bang! Bang! My first instinct is to hide, stay as quiet and still as possible almost frozen in fear or maybe anticipation. It's a very base and guttural response to such a small thing, a knock at the door. It's comical how much fear that instills in me.

It never used to be so, I used to be excited to see who was at the door. Having company was almost a holiday when I was younger. The coffee was set out and food was offered to friends, family and even strangers. The visits were never announced as people would just show up at your home and allow themselves to become part of the happenings of the day. So strange how times have changed, now it's a screeching halt of terror.

How bad could it be that someone is knocking on my door. Honestly I had just moved into the kitchen for a cup of tea and I am certain I wasn't making any discernible noise for anyone to hear. So I could just hide here, not make a sound and hope they go away.

For how long will I have to stand here I’m wondering if it is an emergency. Perhaps it's someone wanting to serve me court papers. Maybe it's a food delivery at the wrong address. I didn’t care what it was, I really just wanted them to leave a note or something to stop me from worrying. Then go away and never return, ever. I’m so freaked out right now, I really need the knocking to stop.

Every sense I have is heightened, my heart is racing and I feel a little light headed by it all. I am going to feel so foolish when I find out it's just a Jehovah Witness coming by to make me a better person or whatever it is they do. Nonetheless knocking on someone's door unannounced should be a crime. Seriously, this is torture just standing here trying to hear footsteps leave the porch or a car door shut as they leave.” Oh please just let them leave already.”

“It’s ok, I’m sure it's going to be ok”. I’ll just keep muttering this to myself like a mantra to calm down.” This is just ridiculous, I’m ridiculous”. How much longer can I stand here? My brain has come up with no less than 53 possible scenarios of why or who is knocking at my door. It would be easier to just answer it and find out. It’s almost as scary when numbers you don’t know call your phone, I don’t answer those either. But to be fair it’s usually just bill collectors, mostly medical bills so they are never going to stop. Still a bit better than at your front door, unless it is them at the front door. #54 has now been added to a list of who or why.

“Are they pacing on my porch?” They are moving around out there. “What do they want?” Well, that’s it my heart is going to explode and I will be found weeks later by someone else who will knock on my door too. “Why?” “ Why?” “ Why?” Please just leave. Great, now my tea is cold. I am not going to heat it up till they are gone. I may never drink or eat again. I am stuck in this one position for what seems like hours. Probably just 3 minutes if I am being honest, maybe even 5 at the most.

“Ok, I'm going to answer this door.” One step at a time, I can be brave and answer my door. I only have to be brave for a few minutes. “I got this!” Three steps closer now, almost there. The silhouette of what appears to be a child is standing there. This is so confusing and now I’m up to 57 who and why’s. Less threatening though, knowing it's a child makes me feel a small bit safer.

Turning the knob I open the door quietly and peek around it to see what is in store for me.

Definitely a child, a little girl. I peer around her to see if an adult is with her. There is no one but her. This is so very odd. She looks like 8 or 9 maybe, “What could all this be about?” I guess there is only one way to find out. I squeaked out a “Hello, can I help you?”

She looked up at me and said in an almost argumentative tone, “You are the first person to answer their door”. I was a little confused so I asked her, “Why are you knocking on doors?”

“Is something wrong?” “Are you ok?”. She responded to me as if I should have known her. In a very alert manner she exclaimed, “Well, this is my neighborhood.” “I live here but I can’t find my house, I’m lost.” “Do you know my mom?” “This is my street but I can't find my home.” Tears are beginning to stream from her eyes, her very dark eyes that are staring directly into mine.

“Alright, don’t worry we will figure it out.” Speaking to her with no real idea on how that was going to happen. But I will surely give it a try. “Come on little one, tell me your name and I will give the police a call and see if they can find out your address and get you home”. She just stared at me like I should know her, I have no idea who this kid is. I feel horrible about it. I have never seen her before. Not playing or riding a bike, not even walking to school.

“My house is blue, it has a big window in the front and a bush near the mailbox.” She stared at me while giving me the description of her house, still no name though. “What’s your name?” I asked again, just a blank stare. “I want to help you but I need your name to tell the police.” still no reply. This is getting weird. What do I do now?

Taking a good look at her to make sure she was ok, I noticed she was wearing a very pretty dress. The kind you would wear when you had a special occasion to go to. That would explain why she was somewhat forceful, probably worried she was going to get in trouble for wandering off and is making everyone late.

“You don’t know me?” she said quietly. I responded, “I’m so sorry, but I don't. Can you give me your name?” “No, I am not allowed to tell you my name, will you help me anyway?” her voice cracked as she sniffled. “This isn't going to be easy.” I thought to myself. “Let’s take a walk and you can tell me if anything looks familiar.”

She hurried behind me as we walked to the street. Walking down the street staring at houses to see if anyone was looking for a missing girl. Looking for signs of panic on peoples faces. Nothing, not one person was looking for this girl. “What should I do now?” Not one blue house or even a bush next to a mailbox. “Where is this little girl from?”

“Little one, does anything on this street seem familiar to you?” hoping she would say yes, but knowing in my heart that it didn’t. A small “No.” is all she said. Then she stopped and simply stated to me, “ You used to walk past my house almost everyday.” “I remember seeing you when I would sit on the porch with my grandpa and grandma.”

“Me?” Confused and perplexed, I have no idea what she is talking about. I haven't walked around these streets for years. I have a car and hardly ever find myself taking walks. “You would walk to school.” She stated firmly as if I was playing a cruel game with her.” Oh, this is taking a weird turn, nope I should have never opened that door.

“I promise you I never walked to school.” Pausing to consider explaining, I continued. “I took the bus, my school was at least 20 miles away and I graduated 3 years ago.” Stunned and very upset I could see she didn’t believe me at all. “Where are all the adults when you need them?” I whispered to myself. I turned to start to walk back to my house, “You are just going to have to tell me your name so we can get help, you can tell me or the nice policeman when they arrive.” She looked so annoyed at me as I told her this. “I get it, I wouldn't want the cops to bring me home either. All the trouble I would've gotten into.”

I told her about how my grandparents and my mom raised me here. I used to know a lot of people on this street. Now nobody leaves their houses and barely says hi when you do see them. I don't know anybody's names now. Probably why she can't tell me her name. Stranger danger and all that.

“My house was 3 houses down from yours.” She told me. “It doesn't look the same anymore and the door is locked and no one is answering when I knock.” More tears and now she looks scared. I tell her, “There was never a blue house on this street, maybe your house is on the next street?” Angrily she told me, “No it's not, I know you know me you would wave to me when you walked by my house, until.” She stopped, then stuttered out the rest. “One day, you saw us on the porch swing and ran away crying.” “Is that why you won’t help me?” “I don't know why you were scared but we didn't do anything to you.”

Just then I remember a story my mom told me about a house on the street when she was walking home from school. The old swing in an empty house was moving and she saw 3 ghosts on the porch. She cried and ran home, she was scared to death. I turned to look into her dark eyes and she had vanished. I ran home myself wishing I had never opened that door.

Over the next few weeks I had tried to find out any information to set my mind at ease and make sense of everything. I never saw her again and didn’t have much luck researching. The most I did find out was in old pictures there was a house that could have been blue but the pictures were in black and white. There was a big window and a bush near the mailbox a few houses down from mine with a swing on the porch. My mom used to walk to a little school that had long ago been torn down. With no one left in this house, my family has all passed away, I understand how the little girl felt lost and alone. I hope she found her home that day.