The Knocking

The constant knocking sound hasn't subsided for three days now. It would begin at the start of every hour and would last around twenty or so minutes. The knocking would come from my bedroom window. I used to go up and check every now and again but each time I couldn't see anything therefore I ultimately gave up and accepted it as a part of my everyday life. It may have only been three days since it had begun but I have gotten use to the sound, it's had manifested to the point where I can't stand the silence. Every time it would end I would wait forty minutes or so for it to begin again.

I'd always sit in the same rocking chair in the middle of my living room. My loyal Golden Retriever sat obediently next to me. My dog and I have been through a lot together. Ever since my wife Margaret had left me, I would've been all alone if it weren't for my Golden Retriever. It makes me a little less lonely but I can never replace my wife. Oh how I miss her so, she had such a beautiful personality and her laugh, it could light up a room. It was very contagious.

Margaret was an artist, she always would describe what her paintings were, as I always had trouble seeing what she what she saw. A loud knocking noise had broken me from my thoughts. A small smile etched it's way onto my face as I figured out it was currently five pm, as it had been the seventeenth beginning knock today. The knocking started the same time my wife had left me, which was three days ago at eleven pm. She had told me that it was about to start snowing and she ought to take Buddy (my poodle) out for a last chance bathroom break.

You see, Margaret and I bought a house in a remote part of Russia. The nearest town was about an Hour and a half drive. Margaret would always drive me as I never got my license. But, we weren't bothered by that fact, and came here more for the isolation. We were surrounded by a forest which apparently never seems to end. I have never been out there as I'm more of an indoor person.

I remember once, I took my wife out to a carnival and she won me a medium sized plush dog at a shooting booth. I know it's funny, that the wife won the prize for the husband not the other way around but I don't care. She is amazing. I'm not good with dog breeds or any breeds for that matter, my wife knew this and laughed jokingly at me and told me it was a Golden Retriever.

Once again the knocks had dragged me out of memory lane. A single tear slid down my face from my supposedly grey coloured eye. Margaret had always told me my eyes were a light grey colour, but I don't see it , however she was so determined on the fact, so I just accepted it. I'm so lonely. I had felt a cold chill run down my back. That was strange as the room was moderately warm, well for the beginning of winter anyway. A window couldn't of been open as our doors and windows lock automatically, as I always struggled with locking them. It was just an easier alternative.

I had felt the sudden urge to go the check the window again. I slowly rose to my feet, my muscles are stiff from the lack of use. As my feet reached the floor, I had stepped into some warm liquid. I then came to realise that it was urine. My urine. Ever since one day ago I have haven't left this seat. Not for food, not for water, not for anything. I slowly shuffled forwards until I was met with the wall. I had developed a habit of dragging my hand against a wall as I walked. It's reassuring to me. I had waddled into the hall way, I started to feel intense pain in my legs. I leaned against the wall and waited for the pain to pass by. It's not unusual as I am an old man of course. A loud knock echoed through the hallway and suddenly the pain had subsided.

I shuffled down to the end of the hallway as my bedroom door is at the end and to the right. With my hand trailing behind me against the wall, I had halted to a stop. I had reached my hand out so I could feel for the handle. I felt a cool metal handle against my hand. I grasped the handle and had lightly pushed it forward. I shuffled into my room. It has a kingsized bed against the wall and the wall was painted a supposed bright orange. Among the wall was lots of paintings that Margaret had painted. The knocking had become more rapid and seemed desperate almost. I turned to face my window but I didn't see anything outside. But the knocking had continued. I had heard a muffled bark so I turned to face the door. 'Did my Golden Retriever follow me?' He must been worried, i turned back to the window but I didn't see anything however the knocking continued. Becoming more and more frenzied as time wound on. I reached out for the wall and let my fingers glide again the smooth paint as I slowly made my way back to my rocking chair.

That was the fifth time within the three days that I had gone to check the window, and each time I didn't see anything outside. Occasionally I heard muffled screams but it was probably just my imagination. Each time I would check outside I wouldn't see anything however.....

I can't see at all