3am

My name is Jonathan Mulvahill,

Twenty years ago, almost to the day, something happened that I’ve never been able to fully explain or recover from. At the behest of my therapist, I’m writing it down for the first time. I don’t expect that anyone will read it, but, as he said, that’s not the point.

On the first of April, 1992, I awoke one morning at around 3am. My wife and kids were on vacation at a beach house in Florida. I would have loved to be with them but being a tax accountant it just wasn’t possible for me to get away.

I had tried going back to sleep but the scratching of the branches against my bedroom window wouldn’t allow me to. That and the wind. I remember it sounded as if the walls were going to fall in on me. I got up, walked into the kitchen and put the kettle on the stove top to make some coffee. I figured since I was up I may as well get an early start on some work.

While I was waiting for the kettle to boil and was grinding some coffee I remember looking at the window through which I could usually see my back yard, but, since it was dark, saw only my tired face. It’s funny. I remember looking at the bags under my eyes and thinking it was time to try moisturizing. Strange that I remember that. As I was looking disapprovingly at myself the back security light flickered on and off. At first this didn’t concern me. I remember thinking that maybe it was a deer or something. I lived on 15 acres of land back then and it backed up to a national forest. 

I made the coffee and poured myself a cup and it was about then that the back security light came on again. Only this time it stayed on. And that’s when I saw her for the first time. I remember my chest tightening and my eyes widening. Heck, my chest is tightening even now as I recall it. At first I thought it was some kind of joke.

There was an old woman. Long gray hair. Wet from the rain. sitting perfectly still on my children’s swing. That freaked me out. I had no idea who she was or where she came from, or why she was in my back yard. That’s when I noticed her arms. They were … to call them long would be an understatement. They were raised impossibly high. Passed the plastic coated chains and gripping the wooden beam that supported them. A good five feet from where she sat. I jumped back, dropped my coffee which broke hot across my bare feet. I looked down for a moment and then when I looked back up the lights were off. All I could see was the reflection my face staring back at me.

It all happened so fast. I remember thinking, “okay, 3 options here. At least. 1: I only thought I saw her. She was a figment of my imagination or something. 2: There was an old woman out there but her arms were not that long. Maybe the water which streamed down the window pain only gave me that impression. Or, thirdly, there was an old woman out there with impossibly long arms.

I pulled the chain on a lamp. It was the only light on in the house. I stepped over the broken mug towards my back sliding door and peered out. I could see nothing. All I heard was the wind and the rain falling on my wooden deck.I made sure the door was locked and then threw the light switch on to the back yard and walked back to the kitchen window. There was no one there. The swing was moving, but so was the other one, from the wind. I must have stood at the window for ten, maybe twenty minutes. I don’t think I’ve ever been that still before. I could hear the blood pumping through my head. Eventually I turned away. I cleaned up the coffee, showered and got dressed. I kept looking out the back window. There was nothing there.

I decided to leave for work early. Way too early. The office wouldn’t open for another four hours, but I just needed to take a drive. I got a breakfast sandwich from a 24hr fast food restaurant and parked outside my office to eat it. I must have fallen asleep somehow because the next thing I remember there was a knock on my car window. It was Sandy, my co-worker. I wound down the window in a haze as if I were expecting her to say something other than “are you coming in?” “Hey,” she said. “Sorry to bother you. it’s 10 past nine. Are you coming in?” I told her I was and thanked her for waking me. Sandy was a good woman; overly polite, maybe, but good. She was a single Mom doing her best. She could only afford a baby sitter for several hours a day. And since we worked longer hours in April, it meant her son Casey would end up in the office till late at night while Sandy met with clients. Casey was a quiet boy so it was never an issue. He’d usually just sit in an empty cubicle coloring.

I met with my last client at around 8pm. Answered a few emails and then shut down my computer. I walked out to my car and got in. There was a piece of paper under my wiper. At first I thought it was a ticket. I got out of the car, lifted the wiper and unfolded the piece of paper. It was a crayon drawing of a woman with long arms. All in black crayon. She was standing with her arms at her side. Her elbows were where by her feet and then the arms stretched out along the ground towards the viewer.