Canadian Small Town Gothic
It’s usually raining or cloudy. You try to remember when it was like have the warmth of the sun on your skin. You can’t.
People who move in from out of town, and try to open a shop, leave around six months in. Their shops empty and not quite quiet, almost as if the ghosts of the owners are waiting for you to come in to buy something. The only thing left is the sign still fresh looking. It’s a few months before anyone else opens a shop each time the store are open less than the one before.
You don’t look too long for fear of what might happen if you do. You used to bring it up but you learnt to not question it. No one does. Newcomers always leave, without a word. No one knows where they go. Or if they left town at all. All we know is they’re gone.
You’re with a friend a strange man smiles and says nice day isn’t it? You both smile back and agree, you share a look with your friend, she also knows how weird that was. You don’t say anything to each other and pretend it didn’t happen. You don’t bring it up. You know not to. You’ve never seen that man before, and never will again.
There’s lots of creepy people in your town, hoodies and hats always cover their face. They’re always men. They only come out when the sun goes down. They’re out to take things. Don’t acknowledge that they exist, don’t even glance their way. One look in their eyes and you’ll know you shouldn’t have even looked their way. Even if they aren’t looking, they have eyes in the back of their head and they are watching. Always watching. You can’t tell who’s paranoid you or them. Maybe both.
You live in an apartment, you never see your neighbours in the halls, if you do they’re always leaving never coming. Sometimes you see them getting mail. You greet them and they mumble something you just smile. You didn’t hear what they said. At least not in a human language you didn’t.
All you’re neighbours are old, except a few. But you almost never ever see them, the younger ones. Sometimes you hear their loud music or loud voices but then there’s always quiet. Well you saw one of your younger neighbours, she lives next door. But the look in her eyes scared you, even when she smiles. And she always does.
There’s a field behind the apartment . It was used to be a house from the forties left abandoned since I moved to this town. Even I don’t know why I’ve been here so long, maybe it was because me and my sister were fresh meat, only being 2 and 3 at the time. I’m nineteen now and I can’t leave. I don’t want to even when I do.
One night at 3 in the morning it burned down to the grown I didn’t hear it or even see it. I slept soundly in my bed. Mom asks me the next morning didn’t you hear it last night I reply no I was asleep. When something happens in my town it’s always at night and I’m asleep. I’m always asleep. I was fourteen when it happened. Even though I have trouble sleeping and am awake most of the night or constantly wake up for no reason, I’m always sleeping when these things happen. Like the town doesn’t want me to be conscious when the bad things happen.
Last summer a house that’s over a hundred years old that I have actually been inside, a block away from my house had a murder two days after it burned down. Not even a week later two blocks in the other direction from my building had a shooting. It’s never on the news. And people stop talking about what happened in a week but tell you to not walk by yourself for the rest of the summer. They remind you to never be alone in the daylight. You bring it up to people, all they say is yeah, with this look on their face, like they know something you don’t. It’s not brought up again.
I was always asleep when it happened. Two months ago two streets over from my house across from my friends old house a house caught fire, the top floor gone. This was only time I wasn’t asleep when something and it happened in the late afternoon, when the sun was still out.
The elementary school you went to is behind your apartment across the street. And beside it a funeral home. When you were a kid it never seemed to never be empty. But now it always seems empty and dark. Sometimes it’s full for a funeral, less than once a month. You asked a few times why they put it beside your over a hundred year old school, everyone is as confused as you. You can see them both from your living room window. One time you smelt barbecue it smelt so good. You looked and it was funeral home. Now you wonder when you go for burgers what’s in them. But when the cremate there’s no funeral after they burn a body. If it even is a body.
Onetime a semi truck was parked for three days in front of the field across from the funeral home. No one knows where it went or why it was there. No one saw it come. And no one saw it go.
Most of the people in my town don’t make eye contact with you, and for good reason. You don’t want your secrets out.
Sometimes people give a half smile and you give one back and you’ll think about it all day and smile every time you think of it. Until it happens more than four more times in a day. Each time the smile gets bigger. And you think why’d it happen that many times it never happens that often. The more think about the more you are confused. It happened a month ago and you still can’t forget the way they looked at you. Animals bare their teeth as a warning and you start to wonder maybe it was one. Sometimes the wolf’s live among us in sheep’s clothing. You laugh at that thought, don’t be silly that’s ridiculous. But you still can’t stop thinking about it. How sharp their teeth seemed. Don’t be silly.
Your town is quiet all the time. Except for the rain or the occasional screeching of tires. Cars never pass by, unless at night. Sometimes you forget how a car sounds. And if you’re outside don’t look into the windows, if you don’t want to go missing. But you shouldn’t be out at night. Bad things come out at night. Everyone here knows that you don’t go out at night.
In the summer you are hanging out with you’re friends and mid laugh you’ll all hear screaming you look at you’re friends and you all make eye contact. There’s fear in all of your eyes, you all laugh and then there’s a pause. You try to continue your conversation, but you’ve forgotten what you were talking about. What were you talking about? What’s the date again? When was the last time you saw someone else outside? Or the last time you told you’re loved ones you loved them? It’s so hot when was the last time I ate? Am I even hungry? I don’t remember. I can’t remember. I’m afraid to both remember and forget.
They’ve been tearing down old historic buildings. And rebuild new ones. Its starting not look like you’re town anymore. It makes you very confused. The buildings before we’re fine why destroy them. No one has an answer.
You don’t know You wonder when you’ll leave. You hate it here. Will you move though? Your friends are here. And they aren’t leaving. Why move? Why not stay?
