I Forgot to Lock the Door - creepy new flash fiction by Meredith Morgenstern

The weekend starts here with a decidedly creepy story by Meredith Morgenstern. All we can say is "Please lock your front door!"

Meredith Morgenstern is the maiden name and pen name of Meredith Lopez, who likes to pretend she wasn't born and raised in Miami, Florida. She spent 20 years living in New York City until fickle circumstance forced her to move to the New Jersey suburbs, where she writes horror about being forced to live in the suburbs. A second-generation geek, her short stories have been published in FICTION VORTEX, GOTHIC BLUE BOOKS IV, and HOLIDAY MAGICK. She lives with her husband, two children, and probably some ghosts.

You can find her on Twitter: @AuthorMeredith and at http://meredithmorgenstern.blogspot.com/


​I Forgot to Lock the Door
by Meredith Morgenstern

I forgot to lock the door, which shouldn't have mattered. After we'd seen the house but before we made an offer, we carefully researched the crime statistics and found nothing worse than a few tickets for loitering.

We moved from an apartment in the city, with a door that locked automatically for safety. A few weeks in the new house, and I still wasn't fully in the habit of locking the door behind me. I say "new" house, but it's at least ninety years old. The stairs creak, the heating pipes clank, and there is no central air conditioning.

We had to pay to get asbestos removed from the basement. But it's a nice house, in a safe little town, with excellent public schools.

I forgot to lock the door in part because the kids took forever to get their damn shoes on, and my 6-year old only wanted to wear his new red sneakers, which meant the 3-year old pulled off his sandals so he could wear his new red sneakers, too, then I had to remember to grab a bottle of water and I had to remember car keys because I'm not used to driving, and so after living in an apartment with a door that locked automatically,

I didn't lock the door as I herded noisy children out to the car and tried to remember, on top of all that, where we were going and what we had to do.

I forgot to lock the door and that shouldn't have mattered because I never see anyone on our new street. This town might be good for families, but it's not exactly the bustling city I called home for my entire adult life.

We have yet to meet any of the families that supposedly live around here. Sometimes during the day, when my husband is at work and the kids are playing in their room, I hear voices outside. When I look out a window there is no one there. It's quiet, safe, small town America as far as the eye can see. So it should really not have been that big of a deal. You could take a nap on our street for all the traffic we get. No one would pay us any attention unless they were directed to come here.

I forgot to lock the door. When we got home I pulled into the driveway and my oldest, the 6-year old, was in a hurry to get inside so he could go to the bathroom. I handed him my keys as I unbuckled his little brother from the car seat. My oldest ran up the front steps to our safe little house on our quiet street in our crime-free little town.

​I forgot to lock the door and I guess it matters, even out here, because when the little one and I finally made it up the steps to our unremarkable house and went inside, all that was left of my older boy were his new red sneakers and the vague sense that I could hear his voice but every time I looked, there was no one there.