Hearst Tower - NYC

 

Author’s Note: Think of this as a funky apartment building, even though it’s the Hearst Tower in NYC. I’ve always had an interest in other people’s home life. I’m curious about the things that happen behind other’s close doors. Do the siblings fight as much as I do with mine? Do the parents get along or do they fight? Etc etc. I guess you could say, I’m just nosy as hell! Below is the first of a series of dabbles I'm planning on writing about. We'll see if I actually get to all of 'em! ^____^ Enjoy as always. And please do comment.

Room 102: Father comes home from work and finds his small children are home all alone.

He turns the key and unlocks the door, shouldering his way in, hands full of his briefcase and a bag of treats for the children. As soon as he steps inside, he feels that something is wrong. The silence is out of place for a home with 3 children, ages two, five and six. The usual sounds of Liz finishing up dinner, Kate playing house with her dolls, Mike having a wild police chase with his matchbox cars and Sammie tottering to greet his “da da” aren’t present. A strange and sudden fear grips his heart as he drops his bags at the door and begins calling their names. “Liz… Katie, where are you darling?” “Michael… Sam, can you boys hear me?” With each repetition of their names, his anxiety quickly transforms to panic, making it harder to draw a breath. Suddenly, he stops and sharply turns his head. He’s heard something…a muffled sniffle coming from the Master bedroom. He slowly makes his way inside, straining to hear something… anything, as he stands still in the center of the room. There, he hears it again. The muffled sound of someone afraid of being heard is coming from the walk-in closet. He walks over cautiously with one hand outstretched to grab hold of the knob and slowly inches the door open. The sight revealed to him, is one that grabs him by the heart and squeezes painfully. His Kate, his Mike and his Sam—are huddled together on the floor of the closet with tear-tracks staining each of their beautiful faces. “D-daddy,” his oldest Kate says brokenly. “Mommy… mommy left”. And she begins to cry, her little brothers following her lead. And that’s when he notices the vastness of the half-empty closet open before him. As his children cry and his own tender heart breaks, he comes to the realization that the large partly empty closet, in which the four of them are huddled, is filling up—with the sorrow of children losing their mother and a man losing his wife, the confusion and anger of her leaving without a word, the fear of something having happened to the kids, the love he has for his children and the strength to go on because of that love.