The Song from Outside

Nursing her coffee for warmth, Teresa sits on the porch swing to enjoy the serenity of the dark forest. With a sigh, she gently pushes back with her pedicured feet to start swinging. She smiles contently, resting her head on the seat back and draping her long brown hair over it.

A creaking noise, from the trunks of the canopy trees bending in the breeze, resounds through the forest. The leaves rustle against each other softly as they flutter with motion. The sapphire sky twinkles with enormous clusters of glowing stars.

A sudden, metallic click in the distance snaps Teresa out of her reverie. The sound echoes around her property and originated from something quite large. If there were groaning or booming, it could've been written off as a felled tree, but there was none. Not wishing to find out the source, she calmly hops off the swing and shuffles into the house.

Teresa fumbles over the locks but manages to secure them on both the front and back doors of her multi-story dream home. She takes a step away from the back door to head to her library, but a quiet melody from outside the walls stops her in her tracks. The song has no distinct pattern yet is lovely nonetheless. It almost sounds like...humming.

It can't be a person humming. Teresa has never encountered another person in this area. Why would a person show up here, now? In addition, the source isn't close. It sounds like it's coming from miles away yet is somehow reaching her all the way out here.

After a few moments, the melody ceases, leaving Teresa unsettled but alone with her thoughts. Nothing else happens. Harrumphing, she brushes the incident off as an animal or her imagination and turns in for the evening, fighting her stiff comforter throughout the night.

The following morning brings the same eerie song. In fact, it wakes Teresa up from a deep sleep. The melody definitively comes from a human. No bird could duplicate its fervor, liveliness, and emotion. The youthful pitch fills Teresa with both joy and disdain. Eventually, it fades into the distance and ends after another dissonant, strident click.

All day long, Teresa keeps an ear turned to the forest but hears nothing else unusual. Her heart yearns to hear more of that unpredictable and blissful song while her mind fears that she's no longer alone and in danger of losing her nirvanic solitude. She cuts herself a slice of her homemade chocolate cake and pours herself some coffee before returning to the swing on the front porch. She takes a bite of cake and grimaces at the plastic flavor. Glancing up to the flat white sky, she wonders who or what else is out there that could be creating this music.

The pallid heavens turn orange then darken to their signature sapphire with the yellow-green luminescent stars in silence. Her heart sinks. She'd hoped she'd hear the music again, if not to enjoy it then at least to identify it. Tonight, only the raucous clacking sound reverberates around her.

Several days pass similarly. She wakes up or goes to bed to the serene humming. Sometimes it's nearer or farther, happier or sadder, louder or softer. Every day, she serves herself a slice of the gross, plastic-tasting chocolate cake, grabs her coffee mug, and heads outside to listen for it. Her desire for discovering the truth gradually outweighs her want for aloneness.

The day of truth finally comes, but it's not the truth that Teresa ever hoped for.

While she's asleep in bed, her home screeches and severs, splitting into three parts. Terrified and groggy, Teresa sits bolt upright. The front of the house separates directly down the center and opens outward as if hinged while the rear of the house--thankfully where her bed is positioned--stays mostly intact. The humming, definitely coming from a child, threatens to split her eardrums.

A titanic, freckled face with gigantic brown eyes watches her with glee. Its unkempt hair trails down its back and frames its round face. The gargantuan's mouth is pressed into a thin line as the once beautiful, delicate melody coming from deep within it swallows Teresa in cacophonous misery. She screams as the colossally-sized child's hand reaches for her.