A Glass Of The Past ;
By;
Jessica Anne Singleton
A fictional story that will never happen anywhere.
Once upon a time there lived a man who loved art and design in all aspects. He was a very wealthy man. He was always building a new home and then selling it before he could live in it. Then one day he wanted to try something new. So he bought an old Victorian house that sat on a Virginia Country landscape. The house was just beautiful. But because of the time that it was built, there was no in door plumbing and he had to re do the whole house. He took his time with the house. Just to make it picture perfect. When he was working on the house he saw that it had a grave yard behind it. It was a private family plot. The grave yard sat by a white pumpkin garden and a white rose garden. He had most of the graves moved in town. But he forgot the one on the edge. It was the grave of a ten year old boy.
Once the house was finished, he wanted to throw a Halloween fall party for all his friends. Once his friends saw how lovely the house was, he'd tell them that it was for sale.
The night of the party, the man had a 1920's theme and everyone was dressed up in flapper costumes.
During the party, the man was looking out the window. Everyone at the party had commented on the rain. The rain was a frosted fall mist that made the world look like something out of a snow globe. He saw the pumpkin patch. He hated that pumpkin patch. He told those workers to get rid of it. But they did not listen. That made him very mad. He was drunk. He had been drinking red wine all night. Before he could stop himself he walked outside to the wood shed. He grabbed the first ax that he could. He ran out into the driving rain to hack up the pumpkins. Then he looked down and he saw blood all over the place. The roses and pumpkins were bleeding blood. When he bent down, he saw that the blood was wine. He'd thrown up all over the place. It was on his bow tie as well.
He walked back into the house. He went to the tiny bathroom inside of the office he made. When he was in there he looked up in the mirror and he saw the reflection of the room behind him. There was an older man sitting at his desk. The man had grey hair and he was going bald. The man was not in the right costume for the evening. He looked a few hundred years before the 1920's. The man was drunk and he did not want to make a scene. He had so many friends, heaven only knew who this older man was.
The older man was writing in an old leather bound book at the roll top desk.
The older man looked up at him and he said in a soft but stern voice;
" Sir, I believe it is time to settle your debt. You own me 5 dollars and 79 pennies. I will take that price now."
" If you are looking for five dollars then you are so cheap that I'd think you did not deserve it. Why do I owe you five dollars? "
" Sir, this is my home. It has been in my family for two generations. That out back there, is my pumpkin patch. My wife wanted a rose garden. My boy is ill and he wanted pumpkins. My boy died last winter of scarlet fever. So the gardens wall in his final resting place. I will need money for the seeds and replacement of destroyed property. Your debts mean no more to me then your insults. "
" Here if it is that big of a deal. "
Then he threw a hundred dollar bill on the table. The older man stood up and he said;
" I do not need that price , hell boy you did not hack up my home. "
But the younger man walked out of the room.
He went back to the party. A few minutes of looking out the window and he had to go to the bathroom to leak out all that wine.
This time he went to the hallway bathroom.
When he was in there he could smell roses again. He turned and he saw the vase that sat on the counter. It had fresh roses in it.
They were bright red and bright orange. The garden only had white roses. That is when he was going to walk out of the bathroom. One of the party goers were walking in to the bathroom. It was a woman.
She put her hand to her mouth and nose.
"Oh my what is that horrid smell? "
It was The flowers.
They both looked over.
They were white roses after all but they were covered in red wine and shrimp throw up. The smell in the bathroom was too much.
They both left the bathroom.
He apologized.
When he went back to the party, he felt a hand on his shoulder.
It was the old man again.
The old man handed him the hundred.
The younger man looked over in the mirror and through the view he saw the old man did not exist.
But the crowd had turned into vintage people that did not exist either, just in a reality kind of way.
So he looked out of the mirror and just at the room.
His friends were there again.
That night he went to bed.
He awoke in the middle of the night.
There was a thin ten year old boy standing at the end of his bed. The boy had a blank look on his face.
Then he raised the ax that was leaning against the end of the bed. The boy began to laugh hysterically and he threw the ax at the mans head.
It split open like a pumpkin.
When they found the dead man, the police took finger prints off the ax.
It had not been used for some time.
It had the finger prints of a child that died over one hundred years ago and the man who bought the house.
The End
Happy Halloween everyone.
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