Edgewater Park: A Short Story

“Next Stop, Edgewater Park.” the bus driver said as I gathered my luggage together and got ready to get off at my stop. This wasn’t the first time I rode the bus to my grandparents’ house, but this ride seemed peculiarly longer. As we arrived at the stop I felt anxious because I haven’t seen my grandparents in about two years on my 12th birthday. I stepped off the bus and pulled out the note my mom gave me before getting on the bus. The not read, “Hope you made it safely, once you walk to the parking lot of the Wawa across the street from the bus stop, look for a 2010 Nissan Altima, mom mom and pop pop should be standing outside. Have fun :)” I spotted them as soon as I got across the street, I know a lot about cars. “It must be busy hour around here because I had to wait about 10 cars before I crossed” I thought to myself. I walked to the car as slow as
molasses, looking down at my feet. My grandfather greeted me as soon as I was in sight.
“Heyy A.J.!” my grandfather happily said as I approached the car. I stopped for a few seconds before answering and studied the boot on his left leg. This was new. Last time I saw him, there was nothing wrong with his ankle.
“A lot can happen in 2 years,” I thought to myself, but then I remembered when my mom told me he broke his ankle playing a 1on1 basketball game with the pastor at his local church.
“Hey Junior,” my grandma said popping out the passenger side of the car. She walked over and gave me hug and a small kiss. “Hey mom mom.” I shyly replied. Once we got to their house, they showed me the guest room where I would be sleeping at. I plopped my heavy bags down and flopped onto the bed. I started to doze off until my grandpa walked in. “Your grandma and I will be stepping out for an hour or two. If you get hungry, there is lunch meat, bread, cheese, and mayonnaise. We’ll be back in a few hours.” he quietly said before he tippy toed out. I gave his back the Can’t-You-See-I’m-Trying-To-Sleep stare and continued to sleep. A few minutes later, I woke up sweating. I guess the air wasn’t on. I started to walk to the bathroom because----- I heard a pan fall downstairs. No one but me was home. I decided to cancel my trip to the bathroom because I was not risking my life on something I can hold for whatever was out
there. After a few minutes of breathing fast and panicking, I decided that I was just hearing thing like I always do when I’m home alone. I opened the door slowly and cautiously creeped down the steep, dark steps. Halfway down, I remembered why i life the room; to use the bathroom. I sighed and turned around and headed towards the bathroom. BANG! I heard another rattle downstairs and then I heard a door creak open. “Nah, that’s out” I said to myself, but I decided to be a man and pick up a kane and go downstairs to see what was down there. On my way down, I heard something claw on a door. “What kind of burglar scratches doors?” I thought in my head. This was creepy. The scratching was getting louder and louder as I got closer and closer to the door. I soon approached the door. My heart was beating. Harder and HARDER. It started to get hot. My life could depend on opening this one door. Anything could be on the other side. I quickly snatched open the door. I sighed. How could I be so scared of this, this tiny thing. It was my grandparents’ cat, Tidus. I was mad, but at the same time I was relieved. I thought I was being robbed! This whole time, it was this little thing knocking down pans, creeping into half open rooms, and scratching doors. My heart started to beat regularly again. I was still kinda creeped out. This was the last time stayed at 23 Church Street alone.