I’ll Wait For You To Come...

• Yan Yan Ng, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2022

Darkness plunged the night. The stars glittered as starchy clouds drifted carelessly across the moonlit sky. Leaves of barbed woodland rustled against the wind as it galloped along the streets peeking through the windows of all the slumbered citizens.

Fear strained through Zara’s mind as she laid awake on her bed. Droplets of sweat trickled down her clammy forehead as a voice whispered, ‘I’ll wait for you to come….’ The voice was raspy and old like rust on decaying metal. ‘I’ll wait for you to come…. I’ll wait for you to come.’ The voice spoke again. Sparks of laughter echoed across as a light flickered through the distance. A chill ran down the girl’s spine as tears welled in her weary eyes. A ghost is dwelling in this neighborhood. For a moment Zara felt stubborn to believe such of a thing but ever since she had arrived at Summerville, she had sensed something odd, but now it was obvious…. it was haunted.

Warmth hovered across the town as rays of sunlight soared through the horizon. Crickets chirped and morning birds shrilled, awakening Zara.
Ding! Dong! Footsteps echoed at the front as the door creaked open. Who could it be. She strode through the corridor hiding behind a wall. Through the distance she saw a girl, she had olive skin, aqua eyes and wavy brunette hair. Beside her was a middle-aged woman with blonde hair, tanned freckled skin and blue eyes. ‘Darling! We have visitors, come greet them!’ A sweet voice cried out. The girl sighed as she trampled towards, she was an introverted person. ‘Hi! I’m Heidi and this is my daughter Katya, we just came by to welcome your family to Summerville. We live right opposite to your house so if you need help for anything please ask us!’ A long conversation grew between both mothers as if they were robots, created to only talk nonstop. Zara gazed at the floor trying to not make any eye contact with Katya. ‘They sure talk forever.’ A calming voice mumbled. Zara glanced at Katya. ‘Yeah.’ She replied. Eventually so too did their friendship develop, minutes had gone past, yet the two seemed to already be the bests of friends….

‘I’ll wait for you to come….’ The voice whispered again. Zara gulped. ‘Can you hear that?’ She posed. ‘Hear what?’ ‘A voice of an old man.’ ‘Oh! That’s Mad Joe. He lives right next to you. He always whispers that phrase; he plays videos of his late wife and him. ‘I’ll wait for you to come….’ The voice whispered from behind as a gust of wind tapped Zara’s shoulder. Both girls turned around as they gazed at two dancing shadows across the floor.