The Oak Garden Building | Short Story 2021

As I gaze out my window at the sky while watching my children sleep, the brisk winds remind me of a building that I once lived in, wherein I saw, sensed, and were horrified, an encounter with which I'm not comfortable speaking. Fortunately, everything turned up okay.

My name is Herman, but my friends called me Er, and the following is a story of what occurred to me 23 years ago. I have had a passion for writing since a kid. Now my guardian thinks I can go even farther. Consequently, they help me submit an authorship application and enrol in further linguistic, writing, and journalistic courses.

Little did I realise that I'd be given a job to help me improve my abilities while simultaneously taking part-time writing courses to support my income. I was a young twenty-year-old at the time. Too young, yet inquisitive and willing to try new things. As a young author, the chance pushed me to go outside my comfort zone and acquire essential experience. 

Pay attention to the sound of the wind in the space I call home, the voice of those who are in love with me, the guardian. A final farewell appears to be a simple thing to say; however, it would be impossible to remove one's shoes once inside. Greetings from a brand-new universe filled with endless possibilities for discovery.

It's complicated, I have no one to drive me around or pick me up, so I'm left taking the bus around searching for a place to stay. While being a writer is an incredible pleasure, I am a broke unskilled inexperienced writer. I'm looking for a reasonably priced, peaceful place where I can concentrate entirely on my work.

Despite this, I made it to town and slept in a budget motel for a few days. Following that, I begin searching for a rental property. While walking around the streets, I came across a paper attached to a street pole with an address and phone number, which caught my attention and prompted me to call the owner. My good fortune came when they currently had a vacancy.

On that day, I checked out of the motel and took a cab to go to the building. The rental building is about 15 minutes from the corporate site. With my luggage in my left hand, I observed the building as soon as the taxi departed. It was a four-story building with a single entrance, a few parking spaces, and a small park to the right. I assumed it was the wrong address.

But then, my name was called, I stood alone on the sidewalk, gazing at the empty park.

What's your name again, Mr Herma?

The owner, a middle-aged man in his fifties, called out my name. He said you are at the right location at the Oak Garden Building on 570 streets. Due to its quiet, few people prefer to remain there. There were few cars in the area, and just a few people were inside the building. The building looks authentic and old.

The building is four stories tall, with 10 flats on each level. There was no elevator access, and the fourth-floor building had been left empty. Additionally, there were few facilities. But, paying rent is much less expensive than I expected.

My rental unit is on the third floor, at the far end of the building. It's a bit dark outdoors. While there are a few more renters on the level below mine, the owner says that a few of them do not return often due to the distance between their rental property and the closest convenience store.

He mentioned that the last renter stayed for less than a week before leaving. When I inquired as to why he was remained silent and continued walking show me the place. I have low expectations regarding the appearance of my house. As a result, my living area is comprised of the following: a kitchen, a bathroom, a bedroom, and a corridor. It's a really small room, which was perfect for me given that I was living alone at the time.

After he left, I sat and sleep.  At this time in the evening, it was 6 p.m., and I overslept. I worked up at 9 p.m., walked to the window to close the curtain. However, I immediately saw someone looking at me and waving back in the empty park. Because it was so dark and the light was flickering, I'm not sure whether that individual is a guy or a woman.

The following day, I wake early so I can catch up with the bus to go to a job. Fronting the building is the bus stop, while behind it is an empty park. The bus shuttle runs every two hours, and I arrive there at 7 a.m. to catch it. It's strangely silent here; only I was waiting for the bus at the early hours of the morning. In the meantime, I heard someone ask, "Are you waiting for a bus?" and I responded, "Yes." But suddenly, when I turn my back on, no one was there. I feel weird and petrified at the same time.

But it only lasted a short time before the bus came. While sitting near the window, I stared closely to the bus stop and the vacant park, but still, no hint and no one was there. It had become a question for me until now.

My work was very much busy despite we just typing and writing at the office, the boss release us at about 6.00 o'clock in the evening. As I'm arriving at my home, it was dark. With a few few residents in the building, it's truly seems like you were living alone in there. When I arrive at the Oak Garden Building, I have to pass through the empty park with the light flickering.

Have you ever been in a situation when you felt as if someone was watching you and your heart was racing, making you want to move faster? That occurs throughout that period. I had the distinct feeling that someone was watching me at the moment. However, it got worse and more frightening when I heard someone sobbing on my left side. As a response, I came to a standstill and observed carefully, but there was no one there. I attempted to go to the site where I heard someone weeping, closer to the park, but someone grabbed my hand and dragged me into the building.

It was a first-floor resident who claimed he spotted me going through the deserted park and advised me not to enter. When I questioned, why? He said that there was a female who went missing in that location but was never discovered. Everyone who visits the park ultimately leaves; maybe they have been haunted or something strange has occurred. That is why the building gradually becomes vacant as people leave after encountering something supernatural.

When I heard the event, I instantly remembered someone waving at me at the moment; I'm guessing that's who the guy was referring to. After hearing the mystery, I felt a sense of security and caution in the future. However, this did not occur until the third day in the building.

We had a celebration for a worker at that time, and as usual, I return home quite late. Fortunately, my colleagues escorted me home. It was about 9.00 p.m. While going through the park, I get the feeling that someone is standing at the corner of the building, but I pretend not to see them and to believe they do not exist. Thus, I walk through the door and want to take the stairs, but I get a sense of dread, like if someone is waiting for me up there.

However, while I attempted to open my door, I heard rushing footsteps from the ends, but no one was there. I hurriedly opened the door and fortunately got access to my home. It was a frightening time for me, like if someone were playing a joke on me. Then, after several minutes, my fan began to move slightly and the books I was reading began to tumble off the table, but there was no air entering because to the early closure of the window.

I maintain my calmness for a little longer, and the abrupt occurrence gradually fades away. However, I am unable to remain in the place where I find no comfort. As a consequence, the next morning, I packed my belongings, informed the owner of my reason for leaving, and stepped away from the building. I return to the motel till I can arrange for another place to stay.

As people leave one by one, leaving this location as history, this spooky site had a tale to tell, a story that needed to be told. But I don't need any more explanation. So do I; I'm heading out of there, now I fine, having a good family. What happen in the building stays in there.

Disclaimer; The character and name used in this short story are a made-up word, and it is based on the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locale or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.