The Chair Outside The Window

My family moved to a house near a small town on the outskirts of the city. As a government doctor, my father had the house assigned to us, and fortunately, it was always clean and furnished. My brother and I, being kids, eagerly explored the spacious house and backyard.

One night, as I gazed out my window, I noticed an old, dusty chair on the patio. It looked like an antique piece. Feeling thirsty, I got up to get some water and was startled to see someone sitting on the chair. Exhausted, I dismissed it as a dream and went back to sleep.

The next day, I asked my father if any of his colleagues or patients had visited late last night. He said he had fallen asleep early. That night, I asked my brother to sleep with me, but he was fast asleep. To my dismay, I saw someone sitting on the chair again. Gathering my courage, I approached the window and hid behind the curtains.

It was dark outside, and fog had settled over our patio. The person remained motionless, sitting on the chair. I cautiously opened the door, clutching a baseball bat. The cold air and fog enveloped me, but I could still see the figure sitting on the chair. I screamed and switched on the lights.

To my astonishment, there was no one there. However, I noticed fresh mud around the chair, as if someone had been sitting on it with muddy shoes. The next day, an old man visited and insisted on taking the chair away. He explained that it belonged to the previous homeowner, who had recently died in a car accident.