An Encounter

By Kunal Siyal

My head leaned against the waxy glass of the window as I gazed into the foreboding forests. Ashy snowflakes lazily glided down, coating the emerald pine trees in a layer of white. The shrieks of old crows echoed endlessly, as they circled the horizon. I continued to stare out of the window, looking out for anything- or anyone.

I was never one for cliches, but in just a few days, life had turned upside down. The house I once called home was now reduced to nothing but rubble, and the stench of singed wood policed the area. After the fires were extinguished, the authorities informed me that I was allowed to search through the debris to see if I wanted to keep any items that had survived the horrific blaze. The majority of them had been burned beyond recognition, yet I continued to look around for hours on end, for anything that I could take back- anything that had survived.

All I found was a slightly dented silver lighter. It was two or three inches wide and lit a rather tall, vibrant, crimson flame. The sides had an intricate pattern tattooed on it, and the bottom had the two initials. L.S. Not a single person in my family nor my friends had those initials. How it wound up in my house puzzled me, but as I continued to study the lighter, something told me that it wasn't there by accident.

It had all happened so quickly. The events before the fires were no different from my regular day-to-day routine. After school, I walked back home, just like I did every day. I threw my bag on the couch and went to eat my lunch, just like I did every day. As I was watching some TV, I heard the bell ring. That's odd, I thought. Uncle shouldn't have been back for another few hours, and he told me he was running late since the conference had been delayed. I got up and walked to the door, pondering on who it could be, and the last thing I can recall was peering out the peephole to see who was at the door. The next thing I remember was the house being engulfed in flames.

Rich shades of vermillion poked out of every nook and cranny, and an intense heat surrounded me. The blaze laughed maliciously, as it continued to grow stronger and fiercer. I remember hearing the shrill screeches of the windows before they cracked and shattered, sending flying shards in every direction. Streaks of pain coursed through me and as I attempted to move a paramedic's hand pushed me straight back down. It was then that I noticed the rich green, blades of grass were stained red, due to the blood pouring out of my leg.

The next few seconds, however, were rather hazy. I remember the cool droplets of water that dripped from the firefighters' hoses. My eyes gave me a very distorted image as I recall seeing medics rush towards me and continuously ask me meaningless questions. But what I remember vividly, was the dark silhouette of a man as he slithered quietly back into the woods. He was wearing a large, beige trench coat that curled up and masked his face, and a wide-brimmed hat that concealed his eyes. His hands were tucked deep into his pockets and he wore shoes. that were darker than the night. But something seemed off. Even though the coat and hat concealed his face, I felt an eerie joy leaking out of him. Something told me he was smiling. Why?

The train suddenly came to a halt as I continued to stare outside the windows, wondering how my family was doing. They had called hours ago and told me that no trains were going to the city anytime soon, so I was instructed to head to Williamsburg, where they would arrive to pick me up. My uncle needed to stay for a few more days to work out a few complications. I picked up a bag containing the few clothes the police had given me and tucked the lighter back into my pocket. I picked up the two books that I had purchased for the train ride and hid them deep in my coat. I started making my way out of the coach, rapidly wondering who was coming to pick me up. Would it be dad? Mom?

I exited the train stepped onto the grimy station and looked around. People walked right past me as if I were invisible, and each person seemed entirely absorbed in their own worlds, not caring about anybody or anything else. Small tea shops were littered throughout the station, each selling old, dirty food packets and out of date newspapers. The city also had a TeaRoom and Stationery Shop, similar to the one back home. They sold the worst pancakes and waffles, but the coffee was drinkable. I continued to wander through the station searching for my parents and then something stopped me dead in my tracks. My blood chilled and each hair on my body rose. I dropped my suitcase, and my body became numb instantaneously.

Standing on the station, waiting for me was a man wearing a large, beige trench coat that curled up and covered his face. He wore a large brimmed hat that helped mask his eyes. In one hand, he held an old watch and glared at it with his empty and soulless eyes. In the other, he played with a silver lighter, one which made a rather tall, crimson flame, almost identical to the flame the lighter in my pocket made. He looked up at me and his lips curled to reveal his sinister smile. Then he spoke with a hoarse voice that echoed endlessly in my ears.

"Just on time," he whispered.

By Kunal Siyal