Halloween story #2 - The Waiting Part 1

Jack sat by the window, fingers drumming on the armrest of his chair. The house was unusually quiet tonight, but that made sense—everyone was in on the plan. His parents were in the kitchen, pretending to be busy, while he kept watch, waiting for the moment to spring the birthday surprise on Emily.

She was running late, but that wasn’t unusual. Her job at the accounting firm often kept her longer than expected. Still, she’d texted earlier saying she’d be home by 8:00 PM, and it was already 8:20.

Through the window, Jack saw the familiar flicker of headlights approaching. His heart lifted. "She's here!" he called over his shoulder, his voice tinged with excitement.

The car slowed as it neared the driveway, but instead of turning in, it kept going, disappearing down the street. Jack frowned. His sister’s car was nowhere in sight.

“She’s probably parking around the corner,” he muttered to himself. It wouldn’t be the first time; sometimes the street was too packed to find a spot near the house. Still, his eyes scanned the street, hoping to see her walking up the sidewalk.

Minutes ticked by. The kitchen clock seemed to grow louder with every passing second. Jack glanced at his phone—no new messages.

Another five minutes passed. Nothing.

Jack stood, a knot of worry forming in his chest. He walked back to the window, peering out into the dark street. No sign of her. The streetlights cast an eerie glow on the empty road, and the faint sound of wind brushing through the trees filled the night air.

"Is she still not here?" his mom asked from the kitchen, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the tension in her voice.

Jack shook his head. “No, I thought I saw her, but... she didn’t show up.”

His dad emerged from the kitchen, brow furrowed. “Maybe she stopped for something? Did she say anything?”

“She said she’d be here by now,” Jack replied, trying to keep the edge of unease out of his voice. He glanced at the cake, the unlit candles mocking the situation.

Jack checked his phone again. No missed calls, no texts. His fingers hovered over the screen, tempted to call her, but something stopped him. Maybe he was overreacting. Maybe she really did get held up.

Still, a sinking feeling gnawed at him.

He returned to the window for the third time that night, pressing his face closer to the glass, scanning the street again.

And then his stomach dropped. The street was as still as it had been before. Emily wasn’t there. No figures, no familiar outline, no sister making her way up the sidewalk.

She had simply vanished.