Needle and Thread

I walk to the Grocery store pretty much every day, passing the same Antique shop on the way there, and every time I pass it, I get the same eerie feeling. I have the tendency to stare at the window in every building I pass, but there was just something weird about this shop. Most stores had mannequins in their windows, innocent looking mannequins, but in these windows, they seemed to stare into my soul. Most mannequins have a plastic smile on their face, but this wasn’t plastic.

The mouth was too real, and detailed, like a normal… human smile, but, at the ends of its wide grin, were large stitches. The eyes glistened, but not with plastic. It was like tears were in the eyes, and around the area, was red and puffy, like it had been crying for hours. Every time I looked at the sight, large chills ran up my spine.

I was out for a while one night, to the point of it being pitch black. I was walking across the street, past the Antique shop, as a small shiver trailed up my neck, causing me to turn, and look at the window. I swore, I saw his eyes move toward me. I took my flashlight out, to notice that the eyes were still where they were before, but the smile looked more… forced than usual, like it wanted to frown. I ignored it, and continued to walk home. After I had arrived home, I entered my house.

“I’m home!” I yelled out, to signal my parents. My mom was the only one to walk out. I was a bit confused, seeing that my father was the only one up at this time. “Where’s dad?” I questioned my mother. A large grin spread across her face at that question.

“Your father isn’t feeling well.” She replied, hiding her hands behind her back. I looked over her shoulder, and decided to trail down the hallway into my parents’ bedroom. I walked in, to see my father with a large grin stretching from ear to ear, with two large stitches at both ends. Tears streamed down his face, as he tried to say something, but couldn’t speak very well, but it was audible, enough to hear him say,

“Behind you!” I slowly turned, to see my mother, a large grin across her face, holding a needle and a ball of thread, looking right at me.