Nightmare (: Formerly published)

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
Nightmares may be more real than we care to know

Submitted: August 04, 2009

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Submitted: August 04, 2009

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Once there was a sleepy man called Timmy, always
digging deep into sleep. Sometimes he endured hardships of various art,
but then he just went to sleep and dreamt. The dreams cleared his mind
and he didn't care about all the evilness in his life, but one day his
little daughter asked him a question: "Why do you always lose your job,
Daddy. Your clothes get ruined and someone stole your money, but why
does these things always happen to you?"
That question he couldn't
dream away, he thought it over and then he said: "I don't know, but
everyone meets hardships in their life. It doesn't matter. It stops
again."
His daughter looked at him with an eight year old girl's
scepticism. "Hmmm," she said. "I don't like that, I want to have fun
always ..."
He tried to convince her that although some bad things
happened to some people, it didn't matter that much when one had the
right attitude. No matter what, he couldn't get through to her so he
was sad that night when he went to sleep. Perhaps that's why he had an
awful nightmare. Some shadowy creatures came to him as he lay there in
his nice, cosy bed. They poked at him and one said, full of contempt:
"So you endure everything, and don't fear us?"
"Fear you?" he exclaimed, very surprised.
"Yes, you idiot, didn't you know that your bad luck came from somewhere?"
He was shaken to the core of his being. "Some people do encounter bad luck, but there is nothing one can do about it ..."

"Hehehe," the creature went on in a horse and contemptful voice. "No,
if one doesn't do anything then there is nothing to be done." He was
stopped by another of the black shadowy things, waving a long and very
thin arm at him. "All right, the contemptuous one said, "dream your
dreams and have fun in your misery." "Nice meeting you," another one
said with a grin that bared pointed, white teeth. "Very nice indeed,
you are so special compared to what we are used to ..."
"But what
is all this, am I hexed or what happens?" The shadowy ones dissolved
with a crackling laughter and he woke up, utterly uncomfortable.
However, after a couple of hours tossing on the bed he fell asleep once
again and this time he had another kind of dream. He saw one of the
shadowy ones come running against him, spear in hand and before he
could do anything about it he pierced his chest, right through the
heart. Once more he woke up, feeling miserable, almost expecting to
find marks after the spear. "What is going on?" he asked in a loud
voice into the darkness of his bedroom. "Nothing," a voice rung out
from the darkness and he nearly tumbled down from his bed with fright
at this unexpected answer. "Nothing at all, so you better just sleep
on."
He sat up in his bed, ready to jump out and then he turned on
the light with trembling fingers. There was nothing to be seen, but the
voice from before still sounded out in the room. "We are very sorry
that our younger soldiers came to disclose their presence. The clients
are not supposed to know about us."
"The clients!" he exclaimed, that sure is a mistake, I'm no client. I'm a private investigator and I have clients ...."
"You sure do," the voice said. "One of them remembers you uncommonly well. He may never forget you."
"And who may that be?"
"Alfie Johnson, the man whose daughter disappeared ..."
"Oh yeah," he said, "I remember that case. And she never came back?"

"We know where she is, but you were supposed to find her, instead you
did a lot of other things that amused you more than that."
"And is that why I have all this bad luck? I don't believe in bad luck, only that some events are less than good."
"Some people are vengeful, you're not, you want to forgive everything even before it happens."
"But Alfie ... well, suffice it to say that he doesn't forget that he has lost his daughter because of you."

"Am I to believe that Alfie Johnson has harmed me, that he is behind
all this?" He couldn't help laughing at the thought, but that made the
voice turn harsher as he said: "Poor Timmy, Alfie Johnson is with you
all the time, no matter what, he is always close by."
Timmy laughed
once more: "What!" he exclaimed, "Where are you? I can't see you, this
is just a dream and I'm talking to myself."
"So this is another one of your dreams, nothing real ever happens to you, does it?" it sounded from somewhere in the room.

Suddenly the door opened and his daughter came in. "Daddy, why do you
shout like that, it's the night, you should sleep." He left the bed and
followed her into her room, tucked her in her bed, adding some
consolatory words. "Don't be afraid, Daddy is just having some bad
dreams ..."
She looked at him with love and scepticism, the very picture of her late mother, but she didn't seem convinced.

"A nice daughter you have," the voice said when he returned into his
bedroom. "Very sweet, resembles Alfie's Isabel when she was her age."
"Back off!" he yelled, suddenly alarmed, "just you dare and I shall rip you apart."

"Hehehehe," it sounded from the darkness, "and how will you go about
that when you can't even see me?" He laughed out once more and then
there was quiet.
Timmy called out for him, but got no answer. Then
he went to bed and at once started to dream again. This time the
shadowy ones were standing very close by his bed, he could see them,
but they were totally silent, until a sugary voice asked: "What is the
name of your pretty daughter?"
The question seemed so sinister to
him that he felt chills running up and down his spine. "Yes, what's her
name?" asked another one and soon all of them asked the question: "The
name? The name?" Timmy felt how this question went deep down his heart,
and he simply lost his conscience from fright.
However, he woke up
a couple of hours later, saw the sunlight and felt a deep relief. - Oh,
thank God, it was only a dream. All of it dreams, not Alfie, no shadows
or spears. No questions ...
Exactly at the same moment when this
thought passed through his head his daughter stood by his bed, looking
at him with a worried look. "Are you sick, Daddy?" she asked.
"No, dear, Daddy only have had several nightmares ..." he answered.
She looked at him in astonishment. "But you didn't sleep," she said, "you were so busy walking around and moving things ..."
"What?!" he exclaimed in amazement. "No, I slept and had many bad dreams about things that don't exist."
"You pulled down the curtains and you ruined some plates in the kitchen ..."
"No, no, I slept most of the night although I had nightmares."

Her look made him get out of bed and he followed her, convinced that
this must be a mistake. However, when he opened the door into the
kitchen he found havoc. "What, is this?" he exclaimed, utterly amazed.
"You did it," the little girl said, "you also pulled down the curtains and ripped them."

"No! I slept, I dreamt ... It wasn't real ..." - ""It wasn't real""
resounded and he suddenly remembered the shadowy one's remark: "So this
is another one of your dreams, nothing real ever happens to you, does
it?"
She didn't say anything, only looked worried at him. "The only
time I was up was when I tucked you in after you came to see me ..."
"What? No, you didn't do that," his daughter said, "the man did ..."
"The man??!"
"Yes, your friend Alfie ... He said you were asleep."

Copyright 2009 All rights reserved © EC


© Copyright 2020 ECEC333. All rights reserved.

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