Red Sun

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
A father's worst nightmare comes true.

Submitted: April 19, 2007

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Submitted: April 19, 2007

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The days are bad, but the nights are worse.

  And, in the dark of night, I always lie awake and listen.

Listen for the sound of screaming.

  I didn't mean to do it; it was just an accident. It comes to me in my sleep, instantly, waking me to yet another night of guilty desperation.

The screaming.

The day had started badly.

 

My car wasn't running right, I was going to be late for work, my daughter, Annie, was clinging to my pantleg, asking me to please stay home, I don't feel good, I feel sick, I don't wanna be by myself, daddy.

  I was hungover.

  If only I hadn't been so........hungover....tired.

If.....if.....that useless excuse for a word.......IF.

I'd finally gotten my car started, Annie still clinging to me. I'd told her to go and ride her new bike, the one with the training wheels on it.....the safe one.

  She'd toddled off to ride her bike, moping as she went, teary eyed. I climbed into my car, started it up, waved to annie as I pulled out of the driveway, knowing the babysitter would be there soon.

 

{If only I had.....if.....if I had......}

Then I pulled onto the interstate, my music blasting to wake me up.

The tapedeck was blasting 1980's metal ballads as I cruised along, the sound of the lead singer screaming raucously

{the screaming.....the screaming......}

about living after midnght, rocking til the dawn. The ballads drowning out all other outside noise, carhorns, music, etc. Just my own little world where everybody was

{screaming}.

I'd stopped at a red light when a man wearing a blue and silver suit came battering at my driver's window with a nightstick, yelling and cursing and

{screaming}

telling me to shut off the engine and pointing at the back of my car and standing there with bulging, terrified eyes.

I walked to the back of my car to see a pait of small chrome bars hanging from my bumper

{handlebars}

covered in blood

{ bicycle handlebars}

and a long, wide smear of blood streaming down the blacktop behind me

{laced with tufts of blond hair}

as the cop stood close by, spewing up his breakfast

{as the onlookers stood by }

screaming.

 

Screaming like hellbound banshees at the thick, stream of blood that glistened black in the relentless Texas sun. {If only I'd stayed home.....paid more attention.....}

as my Annie hung there, terrified and screaming.

Screaming for her daddy to make it stop.

The days are bad, but the nights are so much worse.........


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