He's Back...But Why?

 Today is the day I've been waiting for.

Today is the day my little princess goes up that enormous stage, confidently and recites her poem.' 

My heart puffs with pride as an accomplished mother. Yes, today is my daughter's first Annual function.

Taking a quick glance at my watch, I stepped out of the car and slammed the door shut. 

Finally, after a hectic day at work and a rush of traffic, I managed to reach a little before time.

The driveway was wet from the rain before, making it a bit difficult to walk in my 3 - inch heels. 

Heels aren't just my thing, but just for my daughter, I did.

When she was born, it was like a candle lit in the darkness. The yellow sunlight peeked through the curtains effortlessly, making my life overflow with a warm and bright light which remained as a cold bathroom tile on a chill winter night, before she came. Her smile is something that I look forward to every morning.

She is the hope that helps me fight my fears.

Taking a deep breath, I entered the auditorium, which was filled with parents and children beaming delightfully at the decorated room. Spotting an empty chair across the room, I excused myself and made my way through the massive crowd of parents who were mindlessly chatting away.

The lights were dimmed as soon as I took my seat. Shuddering, a cold chill ran down my spine - a feeling of being stared at.

Instinctively, I turn around. 

'What was that uneasy feeling about?'

My glance was met with Alex. Smiling at me, waving a shy 'Hi'. Alex was the father of Emma - my daughter's best friend. My eyes wandered around for a moment, scanning the room full of parents, only to find nothing unusual.

Glancing back at Alex with a nod and a smile of acknowledgment, I turn to face the stage again, shrugging off the uneasy feeling.

The stage was lit up with lights of green and blue as the principal walked up the stage to address the audience with a ' brief ' speech of pride and acknowledgment for being a part of this school. The Principal Mr. Walter was a person, one of a kind. I mean physically, he could be spotted from a mile away with the look he sported of scruffy curly hair, stout build, a habit of blinking too many a time and a toothy smile that showed off his pearly teeth, which he took major pride at, that I may add.

Distracted, from his supposed- to-be brief speech, I accidentally glanced at the chipped nail polish on my index finger and instinctively hid the nail in a fist. 

' Shit! I should have double-coated it! '

I think, as I tried to concentrate on the speech.

After 20 minutes of bragging that satisfied his ego. Mr. Walter walks off the stage, not before sparing a flirting smile my way, which I feign ignorance and focus on the scene in front of me.

I know, I was rude. But trust me, I know he is the kind of guy that spells " I am trouble". The trouble that should be kept miles away.

After a few rounds of events, I see my daughter at the side of the stage, nervously fidgeting with the frill of her dress, while waiting for her turn. As on cue, she looks up towards me, with a widening spellbinding smile and energetically waves me a 'Hi'.

With clammy hands, anxiously squirming in my seat, I wait for her turn.

And soon enough, she stands in the middle of the stage. Taking a deep breath, she recites her poem…

A familiar poem…

" Yellow hoodie darkened with red,

Every night he stood beside my bed.

Cracking jokes that made me topple with laughter, 

While checking which monster scaring me in my closet thereafter.

Happy, helpful and calm unlike my uncle Ed, 

He resided in the next apartment,"

"Whose window stood just beside my bed." Stunned, I unconsciously recited the poem.

"So, you do remember the poem?" A rasp cold voice echoes in my ears. 

I freeze in my spot, muscles tightening, as I pale by the second.

' Where did she find this poem? Only he knew of it'... I wonder, as I try to conceal the horrified look that has plastered itself on my face... due to an eccentric and unexpected presence.

" My favourite poem, isn't it…." a clear yet rough voice spoke in the dense thickness that only I could hear.

None could even feel his presence. 

I wished I wouldn't too.

Gathering every ounce of courage I could muster at the moment, I whisper in a wobbly and tight voice, " why are you back?"

I hear him chuckle, while I glance at him from the corner of my eye.

Standing in the dimly lit corridor of the auditorium wearing the same yellow hoodie with blood stains. 

The same hoodie that he wore that day.

The same day he died.

" Don't worry, I'm not here for you."

His voice broke me from my trance, and I released a breath of relief. Only to tense up once again…

' Then...is it…?' my mind's clock worked faster, as my eyes widened at the realisation. I look up towards the stage, blankly staring at my daughter.

A cloud of dread passed over me.

"Yes, that's right. I'm here for her."

"Isn't she lovely? Just a mini version of you…"

Fear had a grip on me. I did not have any strength to move. His presence was strong, just like then.

A hand tapped me, and I jerked in my seat. 

Horrified I looked behind to see Alex looking at me with concern etched on his face. 

Sighing, I hide my emotions well. Bringing a charming and professional smile on my face, to ease his mind.  

I ask, " Hey Alex, isn't Emmy next?".

Astonished at the sudden change in my mood, he nodded with a small smile. The hesitancy in his answer was a big giveaway that he is suspicious of my actions. 

After all, the truth should never be hidden from the police.

"Are you alright?"

"I am". I smile. And lawyers are not in favour of enclosing the truth. Always.

 I can no longer sense his presence.

' But he was here, I am sure'