The Windy Boy
Kath Donaldson sat outside on the porch of her small country home on an unusually chilly October afternoon. The breeze was particularly strong and blew her hair in her eyes making it quite difficult to see. She was a cynical women with eccentric ways hidden behind a lady-like personality, even if she lived far from any kind of civilization. Her only neighbors were the trees and the raccoons who sifted through her garbage. She looked out at the fields and said, "I wish something interesting would happen." She sighed not knowing that very soon her wish would come true.
In the darkest hours of the night Kath awoke to a loud tapping on her window. She got out of bed in a very confused manner and, because her window was covered in frost, ran downstairs to look outside. She looked through all of the downstairs windows and then proceeded to go upstairs to see if the tapper could be seen through any of those. However her efforts were in vain and she decided to just go outside and tell them to leave, and perhaps question them as to what they are doing on her private property. She walked down the stairs and opened the door to find a strange sight awaiting her outside. A teenaged boy floating above the ground and drawing pictures in the frost on the windows.
"Excuse me what do you think you are doing?" Kath shouted at the boy. He flew down from the place he was floating and sat in Kath's porch chair.
"Just enjoying the cool night air," he replied as he jumped back out of the chair. Kath was incredibly confused and very tired, none of this made any sense to her at all! The boy seemed to be wearing some strange pajamas and looked like he was also wearing a windsock on his head, altogether he just looked very strange.
"Why did you tap on my window!?" Kath yelled, losing the calm decorum she had before. The boy simply said, "I wanted to get your attention" and flew to the roof. Kath looked at the boy in disbelief, he kept flying in circles around her satellite dish his sock hat flowing in the wind. "Well you got it now what?" Kath put her hands on her hips and looked at the boy. She sighed and went inside. She proceeded up the stairs and opened the window that the boy was floating near. "Seriously what is it that you want?" she whined and shoved the boy away from the window. "I need sleep you know." The boy floated back over to Kath and replied, "My friends are gone and now I need new ones, so I figured since I was in the area that I would see if you were available," Kath gave the boy a very dubious look and asked, "What do you mean your friends are gone?" the boy gave her a very awful sense of foreboding, she felt like something was going to happen, something not good. "They died." He put it very simply and not in any rigmarole sort of way at all. No explanation just, "they died" in a dull manner. As if it was natural and death didn't faze him. Kath however was completely horrified. "How did they die?" Kath squeaked. The boy shrugged his shoulders, "By the way," he said surprising Kath, "I came here because you look like my friend, it gave me a little bit of nostalgia you know?" No Kath did not know and she did not want to near that. This was an insolent little boy, she thought he simply does not understand however this did not calm her nerves. Then she realized, "You killed them didn't you, you murdered your friends and tried to trick me into being your friend to! Just so you could kill me!" Kath screamed at the boy and ran to her kitchen. She then proceeded to pull a baseball bat out of a cabinet and head back upstairs. She had the baseball bat hidden for burglars just in case. She leaned out the window and hit him right in the face, he lost his balance and got knocked out of the air. Kath watched as the pajama clad boy fell to the ground and sighed. She was done chasing around things that may or may not be real, and she decided to retire back to bed.
In the morning when the sun rose Kath looked out her still frosty bedroom window and saw no boy outside. It must have been a dream, she thought. As she stared at the sunrise she heard something, a form of telepathy perhaps whistling in the wind.
" It wasn't my fault."
I hope you enjoyed! sorry i have kind of dissapeared but expect more stories soon! :33