Gargoyle

I grew up in this building. I've explored every floor, heard every story, often repeatedly. It's the oldest building in this town and the one with the most statues on the roof. I've spent hours up there observing the night sky amongst the cables, satellites, and gargoyles. What a big town facade for our little hamlet; statues on the building like a miniature Gotham.

I was lonely as a child. I hate to admit it, but they were my only friends for such a long time. My mother told me that if they could talk back, I wouldn't have spoken to another human for years. I don't remember much from those times, those conversations. But after a few years, I remember I started making friends. Real friends. I became so popular and busy that I spent less and less time at home. But I still live here.

Over the years, I've moved to different apartments, my parents passed away and left me the whole building, I’ve renovated the place, and met and lost so many tenants. This place has been my home and business for as long as I can remember.

The time comes when you move on, though. My wife is about to give birth to our first child, she wants to move out of this town and back home to the mountains. My friends never liked her, which I can tolerate, but some things they’ve said helped me move on from those relationships. The only thing keeping us here is this building. It would’ve been enough for me to stay if it were just me, but I have other people to take into consideration now.

I’m helping my wife get out of a cab in front of the building. The rain has cleared but I’m still holding the umbrella over her just in case. Good news at our doctor’s appointment that the baby could well be born within the next day. We need to pack a few things then make our way to the birthing center. She catches a divot in the pavement and nearly trips. My instant panic subsides just as quickly as her motion and we make our way to the steps up to the building. She pauses and looks in my eyes. I smile and step forward to get the door for her. Suddenly, I see small stones sprinkling down around her. Before I can even look up, a gargoyle falling from the roof of the building overtakes her and crushes her body.

My grief is unparalleled. I spent weeks despondent and disassociated. What else could I have done? How could I have stopped this, it was a freak accident, right? But now, I have nothing to do, nowhere to go, and no one to be with. In my grief and sorrow, I spend time on the roof, for the first time in years. It rains heavily.

“There you are,” I hear from behind me. The voice is gravelly and deep. I turn to look, but see no one.

“You’ve been away for far too long,” another voice whispers with a rush. I spin around trying to find the source of the voice. “You tried to leave us, but the promises you made can not be broken.”

“Who is there?!” I shout.

“Remember us,” rumble multiple voices at once. I look at the statues lining the roof. Their heads are turned. “You begged for friends. You begged for companions in the world. In exchange, you promised us your soul. But yet you tried to leave.”

I remember it. A sad child wishing upon a gargoyle for friendships at a time when I would’ve given anything for them.

I suppose I did give everything… for friends.