Tiny Man Hiding in the Window

I've seen you there, tiny man hiding in the window. And I don't think what you're doing is right. I don't.

The things you've shown me, the things you've said. They're all things that have no place buried in my head.

You come out at night and I wish I knew why no one else could see you but me. I wish I knew what it all means.

I write stories of you, I do. I write them because no one believes me. I write them because they're comforting. I write them because I like you. Because you're mine.

You've come to me, tiny man hiding in the window. You've come to me when the others have left. You've come to me in my time of need and, for that, I can never repay you. For that, I owe you the world. And more.

I still remember the first night I saw you. The first night you showed me the other world. The place where you come from and where I long to be.

This is the story I tell the most. The story I need the others to hear. But the others don't like what you've done to me. They don't like that you've changed me, tiny man.

But I don't need them. I really don't. Not when I have you.

You'll never leave me, right?

I hope not.

Don't go away. Not yet.

I want to grab my notebook so I can write of this night. The last night I'll spend with you, tiny man hiding in the window. Because tonight, I want to go with you. I want to hide in the window too.

I want to see the world from the other side. I want the chance to experience everything for the first time again. I want to be taken.

Taken from the wreckage I've let myself become.

Taken from the world that ignores me. The world that doesn't know I'm even here.

Taken from the monotonous routine of waking without a purpose.

So, tiny man hiding in the window, I want you to know I'm ready.

Ready and willing and eager and alone.

That's the best kind to take. Remember? That's what you told me. You told me to be ready when the day came I knew I'd be ready. I knew it'd be my turn to shine. I've been waiting, tiny man. I was afraid you'd never come back.

But you're not like the others. You don't disappoint.

I brought everything you asked for. I have the rope and the phone and the chair and the matches and the candles, tiny man. I have it all. It was the first time I'd ever stolen anything and, if your plan works, it'll be the last.

The room is caked in a cloud of smoke and a shield of sulfur from the matches that have accumulated at the base of a cherry candle I had problems lighting.  It was too much for to take and I started coughing. Though faint, I heard the disappointment in his voice. He won't admit it, but the coughing was what bothered him. The tiny man didn't like when I couldn't show my weakness.

His voice was powerful and rich and deep and controlling. It was music to my hears as it filled my head and consumed my every thought. No one else heard him.

And that was all right with me.

I asked the tiny man hidden in the window if he was finally ready to meet me. Like for real meet me. He answered almost immediately, though not with words. I could feel his response.  I could sense that he was ready and I couldn't barely hide my excitement. I always loved trying new things.

He told me to climb the chair and I did. He told me that I needed to call my sister and ask her to stop by the house. Ask her if she wouldn't mind feeding my kitty while I stepped out for a few days and I did.
Then he asked me to climb the chair and slip the rope around my neck and I did.

"Now," said the tiny man hiding in the window, his deep, baritone whisper of a voice filling my head with a clarity and calmness like I've never experienced before nor since.

I did what he said and dangled there, the wooden chair crashing to the ground. I'm not sure, but I think I saw my sister right before I got on the other side. She looked confused and angry and hurt and sad, but I knew all that would pass. The tiny man said so.

It got dark for me for a minute. I called and I called and I called, but the tiny man hiding in the window didn't respond. Not this time.

From the tiny man's side, my world seemed all too clear. I could see things ... all of things in all of time and I could decide which places to visit and which lives to invade.

I was on his side and I was happy because it was all I ever wanted.

I looked back through the window I had come through, and that's when I was sure I saw my sister. She was crying and I was on the floor, though I hadn't seen how I got there.

It hurt me to think this way but, deep down, I knew she'd get over it. Over me. She'd realize that the times we had were great and I never meant to hurt her. Had she seen the tiny man hiding in the window, roles would've been reversed, I know it.

I watched her and I felt uneasy.

I watched her and I wanted to scream out in anger because there he was.

There on the other side - my side - was the tiny man hiding in the window.

I've seen you there, tiny man hiding in the window. And I don't think what you're doing is right. I don't.
You lied to me and I bought into it and I can't take it back.

You said your world - this other world I'm trapped in - was the ticket to eternal bliss. To a shot at never being down again. You said these things and you promised I'd get to be with you.

You promised me, tiny man, and you broke it. You broke me.

I've seen you there, tiny man hiding in the window and I wish I hadn't. I wish I never came across your face and your voice and your lies and your betrayal.

I listened, tiny man, because I thought you were sharing something with me.

I listened and I acted and I did what you said, tiny man and it ruined my life.

I want to get my old life back, tiny man hiding in the window, but you said from the start it was a one way trip.