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Tucked away from the main road sat a house that had fallen into disrepair. The once bright paint had chipped away to reveal the bare, fragile wood. The foundation proved to be no better with bricks that were beginning to crumble away. However, there was relief in the shade that was brought by the towering trees that lined the property.
Perhaps there was also relief in the fact that the inside of the house did not reflect the same rundown state of the outside. It was in much better shape, although the atmosphere seemed to still carry a dreary feeling. As antiques all throughout the house left useless as their stories had long since been forgotten. Even so, there was still one thing in the house that seemed to be treasured: an old record player along with a singular record.
In fact the record was the only thing in the house that seemed to be lively anymore. The sound of Ben E. Kings voice seemed to lift the atmosphere of the house and the state of its inhabitant, even if only temporarily.
As Samuel wasn’t a very happy man, not anymore. Not since the passing of his late wife. He had begun to live out the rest of his life as if it was punishment till he could see his Joan. This was his burden to bear.
Her death seemed to plague Samuel’s mind, as everything that he had once enjoyed slowly began to sour over time. The record was the only thing of Samuel that truly remained. Although, that truly did not matter as Samuel wasn’t coherent enough to mourn not only the loss of his personal freedoms but all the memories made in his home.
It was a loss that the man could truly never comprehend.
Samuel hummed softly to himself as he rocked back and forth in his chair. His frail hands for once relaxing on the arm chairs on the seat. And for once the skin surrounding his nails didn’t send sharp pains despite the skin being picked raw. Not that it appeared to bother the man.
He only stopped rocking in his chair when he heard the refrigerator door close from the kitchen.
“Nicole?” Samuel croaked.
Nicole was a younger lady who had moved in with Samuel to help his day to day life upon the suggestion from his doctor. At first Samuel had been opposed to the idea of another woman moving into his home, as it had felt like an insult to his late wife. However, as he grew older and sicker it became abundantly clear he needed a full time caregiver.
Soft footsteps padded down the hall and towards the living room where Samuel currently was resting. Samuel watched as his late wife walked closer to him, and with her came a wave of confusion.
“Sam, would you like something to eat?” His wife spoke to him in a gentle manner. A soft smile plastered on as she waited for his response.
“Joan,” Samuel hoarsley murmured.
He reached for his walker that stood adjacent to the armchair. Before he could latch onto the firm plastic, Joan had softly grabbed his hand and directed it away from the walker. Joan had crouched just in front of him now, gently holding his hand. Samuel jerked his hand away at the feeling of Joan’s long fingernails touching his skin, his Joan never grew hair nails long.
“Get out of my home,” he spat at the fake.
The fake Joan slightly cocked her head at his words. “Mr. Samuel, is everything okay?” Her eyes widened as she pulled her hands up in surrender. “It’s around the time you usually eat. Do you feel unwell?”
“You’re not my Joan.”
“I’m Nicole, Mr. Samuel. I’m your caretaker. I’d love to hear about your wife if you would like to talk more about her,” she all but cooed, mockingly.
“Get away from me!” Samuel cried.
The mirage of Joan was lifted to show who the impersonator was. A very bitter taste was left in Samuel’s mouth at the thought of mistaking Joan for another.
The fake began to rise very slowly from her previous position. “Why don’t we listen to your favorite record,” she spoke with caution. “Maybe after that you can take a nap if you’d like.”
The man scrunched his face in disgust at the thought of the fake using his late wife’s record player to her advantage. As if he could be that easily manipulated. The fake had left the room, giving the man ample time to survey the room he was in.
“When the night has come
And the land is dark
And the moon is the only light we'll see
No, I won't be afraid,”
It was all wrong , the man thought to himself. He no longer recognized the place he once called home. It was no longer inviting as he perhaps had once believed it to be. The pictures on the wall no longer looked upon him with friendly faces. Instead they looked upon him scornfully.
As quietly as he was able, Samuel reached for his walker and stood, ready to get as far away from the woman as he was able. He made a beeline for his bedroom. It seemed as though the old wooden floors would grant him no mercy as they moaned their disapproval. From there he walked past the China cabinet, but he made no stop to look through it as there was no point.
“No I won't shed a tear
Just as long as you stand
Stand by me,”
Samuel’s breathing hitched as the song got quieter as he advanced closer to his room. Although he desperately wished to listen to the song in full he needed to get away from the woman in his house. In his rush Samuel had stumbled with his walker, causing the senior to crash awkwardly to the floor.
Louds thumps signifying footsteps made their way to the defenseless man.
“Samuel!” she exclaimed. She grabbed his underarms and hauled him to his feet before directing him to his bed.
Samuel studied the way her brows furrowed and he watched as her lips moved, yet he was able to hear no sound. Everything had begun to slow for the man as he began to ease out of his fear stricken panic.
“Nicole?”
Samuel watched as Nicole nodded quickly before easing the man back into his pillows. The plush mattress easing little of the man's confusion.
“Why don’t we try again tomorrow and go to sleep Mr Samuel?” She spoke softly, her brows pinched in worry.
At his agreement Nicole left the room, but not before she turned off the lights leaving Samuel with nothing but his thoughts.
“Whenever you're in trouble won't you stand by me
Oh, stand by me
Won't you stand by.”
There the man silently sobbed the night away, unaware that this had become a habit long before this night.