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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic


Nick had been waking up in the middle of the night due to the terrifying nightmares that ensnared his mind although he was only a wimpy nine-year-old kid. He'd always thought that young kids like him would be exempt from bad dreams such as seeing a man sitting on top of a pile of bones, laughing like a maniac, or a girl cowering in the corner with tears trailing down from two swell eyes. Those nightmares had been recurring in random precedence which made him shudder before bed or even asleep. However, good dreams did happen from time to time that precipitated a blooming flower on his face. Witnessing a happy girl in red dress carry herself in the air by a swing was a moment he cherished. Afterwards, the girl retained that happy, innocent look until a stranded dog barked at her and chewed her lower face off.


Nick got up while ruminating the dreams he had the night before. They didn't really make sense from his perspective or hold any significance to his life. Again, he was only nine, and instead of being afraid of the world, he should be outside, frolocking the area, hanging out with friends, and turning himself to stone from watching the latest models in a bikini collection. But, his wishes fell short because he had to bear the responsibilities of being a weird kid with a disability.


He entered the kitchen and found the smell of sizzling of bacon and fried eggs spread across the hallway. He sat down on a chair while her mom fed him a handful of candy-like pills. He reluctantly put them in his mouth, passing through his throat a visible load of capsules made possible with a sip of water. He had to follow these steps before he could have breakfast which forced a condense liquid roll down his mouth; he wiped it off with his hand, still gazing at the meal. Looking at the TV news, he could recall the voice of the female reporter more than he did with the password of his gym lock. Sneaking more stuff into his plate, Nick was nonchalant when his mom came back from browsing the fridge.


"This is the third child victim in a month in Boston. The murderer executed the victims, in the same fashion, by choking them to death around the same hour—in the morning. The bodies were found in the vicinity of elementary schools. All victims share the same characteristics: children under twelve who walked home from and to school without supervision. Parents should take precaution and warn their children to avoid small, empty roads, instead take visible roads that are open to the public.


Coming up next, the price of surgical masks had been on the rise again but not due to the pandemic. People are scared of swallowing spiders in their sleep. A study reported that, on average, we are swallowing two hundred spiders per year, what a terrifying number."


Nick squinted his eyes paying close attention to the TV as he discovered the man in the background resembled the person in his nightmare. Jumping up and down, he said to his mom. "Mom, I know that man. I've seen him before in my dream. I saw him smother those poor children with a string, his laugh was so creepy and cruel when the students struggled to stay alive."


"That's just a coincidence. Your imagination is getting ahold of you, Nick. There's no way he's the same person, that's just impossible."


"That was him, creepy from first glance, and those glasses are just—what's the word?—unmistakable. That's it."


"Hon, he's the assistant of someone important. Do you think that he'd commit those crimes without getting noticed by the police?"


"He was quick to put them in the van, seven o'clock in the morning, strangled the kids and threw the bodies out of the van."


"That honestly sounds too far a stretch."


That night, after dinner, Nick pranced to his room with the phone under his t-shirt. He had thought hard and clear and decided to do something about the man on the TV before he could kill more children. Dialing an emergency number under the thick blanket, he was worried of being overheard and the police might ignore his call for help, both of which led his anxiety to skyrocket.


"This is nine-one-one. What's your emergency?"


"I saw the man on the TV in my dream. He killed children like me and I could recognize his car, a white Ford van, that he used to pick them up—."


"May I have your name?"


"My name is Nick."


"Nick, I appreciate your concern about the case but are your parents around so I can talk to them?"


A force pulled the blanket upwards which uncovered Nick on the bed talking on the phone with someone mysterious. His mom retrieved the phone from his hands and started heeding the conversation. Her deformed expression grew more prominent when the operator exchanged words with her.


"What? My son called the police?"


"He was reporting evidence to the crime that he saw in his dream."


"I'm so sorry, he was clueless about what he was saying. He'd been taking prescription drugs for his condition."


"I want you to listen."


"Okay. That can be arranged. No, it wouldn't be a problem. I understand."


Nick and his mom exchanged worrying looks. He'd prepared plenty of magazines to curb his boredom in case of getting grounded, but his mom sat him down and talked to him like two adults. Nick grew a confused grin which expanded into a baffled scream. That night he couldn't stop wiggling, he tossed and turned until the sun rose on the horizon. The neighbor's barking dog had replaced the crowing rooster in signaling the advent of the morning. Everyone in the neighborhood had to feed him two bacon to keep him going every morning or lend him a female dog to shut him up on the weekend.


The white van had been scanning the neighborhood with malicious intent. The driver stayed a moderate distance from the nearby elementary school to avoid being suspicious. Staying low profile from the police patrols, he drove under the speed limit and watched the road with hawking eyes. A kid walking to school stopped when approached by the white van that seemed harmless plus the driver promised ice cream. He motioned him to hop into the vehicle with curling fingers in which he complied. But the culprit, soon, recognized from the bone and facial structure that the body belonged to a little person. Showcasing his anger, he pulled out a garrote to execute him but the undercover cop had jumped out of the car.


Surrounding the area was countless cop cars, waiting for the murderer to engage in his immoral act, which he did but he was flustered at what smart method the police had researched to catch him. Sitting not too far from there, Nick and his mom were happy that he helped catch the murderer from the nightmare. From the license plate to the murderer's features and whereabouts, Nick was right about everything but he had to stay discreet for a person with a special ability in which he could draw unnecessary attention to himself and render him a victim of exploit and brutality. But, for now, he took out a handful of chocolate cookies and embarked on a journey to the sugar land.

Submitted: June 19, 2020

© Copyright 2021 Nathan Ween. All rights reserved.

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