She was standing beside her bed with her hands on her hips, looking at the bed she had made that morning. The house had been spotless, and now--it had been destroyed. Well--if he thought he'd scare her like that while they had a son...he would never see his son again. He can pick on me now, but he will NEVER find his son. Never. He was finally safe with friends. Friends who could be counted on and trusted. So when the smell of the freshly lit cigar arose, she was ready. She took lighter fluid and poured it through the house. As she took up the match she said, "Sorry baby, but this is your only way out." A tear streamed down her cheek as she watched everything she had acquired her catch with the bright hot flames...they engulfed everything that belonged to her, even the man with the cigar...he wasn't able to escape. She prayed once more that it would be over, and her son would understand some day and still love her. She had to do this, it was the only way for him ever to have a decent life without the bruises and without broken bones.
Her son was summoned by the kids in the neighborhood. Everyone told him that his house was on fire. He didn't believe it and couldn't believe it. Tears fell over his partially bruised eye. A fireman walking by him paused to look around. The boy tugged on his sleeve. "Sir, what it happening here?" He knew this was their boy. He was mighty polite, but there was news to be told.
"Your mama and your daddy were in the house together son, and I don't think we'll find them...alive."
His eyes swelled with new tears. "What's going to happen to me then sir?"
The fireman took one quick look around and spotted the exact image of Tayla. "Be right back son." The fireman said and moved over to Tayla's look alike.
"Beg your pardon missus, but are you related to Tayla?"
"I am her twin sister, Kayla."
"well I got a little boy over here who sure needs some kind words and a good night's sleep. He'd be your nephew."
"Yes, I would expect so...lemme look at you son."
He looked just like HIM. Not all that bad, he had his mother's eyes and her frailty.
Showing posts with label fire. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fire. Show all posts
Friday, July 13, 2012
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
The Nightmare on Elm St. - Rewritten
This dream played as a movie in my head. I was watching a movie, not active in the dream.
Freddy got a bad reputation. He loved his wife, that's all he was guilty of. He would kill for her. He would die for her. She was everything to him and he loved her.
His wife was a ruthless, cold, calculating woman. She was short in stature with a reddish brown bob and petite. She was curvy, but not fat. She always wore business suits with short skirts. Her appearance was always pristine. She was never less than perfect. Kruger had fallen for her looks, her poise, and her grace but he should have paid more attention to her flaws.
She was currently buttoning up her clothes. The plumber, the Mason's boy from down the street, was currently zipping up his pants. He wasn't so bad in the sack but he was dumb as a bag of rocks. This guy would do anything she told him, all for another chance to sleep with her. She cooed in his ear and slid her arms up around his neck and whispered into his ear. He was going to get rid of one of her problems.
They owned a three bedroom house in the suburbs. They also had a teenage daughter, Leslie. She lived in the top right bedroom of the house. Peter, the newborn baby boy the couple just had, lived in the bottom left bedroom. The couple, lived in the top center bedroom. Kruger pulled up to the house in his black F150, excited about seeing his newborn son. He had always wanted a baby boy. He took two steps before a giant blast knocked him back on his feet. He was knocked behind his truck. When he got to his feet, he saw that the room where his newborn son had been, was a giant, black, burnt hole in the side of the house. His son was dead. He started screaming and tears rolled down his cheeks. He tried to run to the side of the house but locals held him back. No one saw the Mason's boy driving away from the scene.
Leslie knew what her mother did. She knew her mother was responsible for Peter's death. Her father refused to believe it or see the signs. But, it was obvious. To make her point, she hid her father in her closet. He protested at first and then agreed. He knew his wife wouldn't, couldn't conceive of something so horrible. So, to please and quiet his daughter, he hid. His wife came into the room and saw Leslie. She smiled, a cold and calculating smile. She looked around and then spoke.
"Too bad that he didn't kill you as well. It's amazing how far men will go to get off. One day you'll learn how to do that, if you don't ... let's say," as she tapped a nail against her cheek, "have an accident first. Your father will. I've grown tired of him and he's just not as useful to me as he once was. That's why I kept him around for so long."
Kruger gaped in shock from the closet.
"I thought you loved father."
Leslie whispered, slowly. Her mother just laughed.
"Loved? NEVER! I never loved him! I just used him! Thank you, Leslie, I needed a good laugh today."
Kruger balled his fists.
Leslie's father had been useful to her mother because he used to kill for her mother. Her mother was a cannibal. She was too perfect to kill for herself - too much blood. So, she slept with Kruger and manipulated him into killing for her. He would bring the bodies to her and she would feed. Leslie would take the victim's clothes, which were stripped from their bodies before her mother ate, and wear them. Leslie liked the scent of the blood, but would never eat human flesh.
Her father burst through the closet door and hit her mother. Blood dripped from the corner of her mouth and she laughed as she wiped it away.
"Did you really think that I ever loved you? I didn't want kids, I only had these mistakes to keep you happy so that you would keep bringing me food. You're NOTHING! NOTHING TO ME! DO YOU HEAR ME, KRUGER?!? NOTHING!"
Kruger, at that moment, punched her so hard that the mother landed across the room and cracked her head open on the edge of the steel corner of the bed. She lay silent on the floor.
Then, the police came in. Leslie and Kruger could hear them from the top floor.
Kruger turned to Leslie.
"They'll never believe me that I had nothing to do with all of this. It's up to you to get out of here and clear my name."
He said as he showed Leslie a way out. He opened the window and gave her the way out. Leslie kissed her father on the cheek and jumped out of the window, landing on the trampoline. She ran, as fast as her feet would take her, away from her childhood home.
As soon as Leslie felt she was a safe distance away, she stopped and turned to watch her dad. She almost screamed. Her childhood home was now on fire and she saw the police retreat, but never saw her father. She watched as her father and mother burned alive inside of the house she was just in. She was the lone survivor of her family. It was all taken away from her in a day. Just a day. She turned her tear stained face away. She had to keep moving. She couldn't let anyone know who she was or what she was doing. So, she ran again.
She saw her father in her dreams. He was always there.
A few weeks later, Leslie got a job at a camp as a counselor. She was going to some place called Crystal Lake. This place would help her cope with what happened. She would need to forget who she was and become someone else. She looked up as a male counselor across the room smiled at her. After what she'd been through, Leslie was ready for anything.
She smiled back.
Freddy got a bad reputation. He loved his wife, that's all he was guilty of. He would kill for her. He would die for her. She was everything to him and he loved her.
His wife was a ruthless, cold, calculating woman. She was short in stature with a reddish brown bob and petite. She was curvy, but not fat. She always wore business suits with short skirts. Her appearance was always pristine. She was never less than perfect. Kruger had fallen for her looks, her poise, and her grace but he should have paid more attention to her flaws.
She was currently buttoning up her clothes. The plumber, the Mason's boy from down the street, was currently zipping up his pants. He wasn't so bad in the sack but he was dumb as a bag of rocks. This guy would do anything she told him, all for another chance to sleep with her. She cooed in his ear and slid her arms up around his neck and whispered into his ear. He was going to get rid of one of her problems.
They owned a three bedroom house in the suburbs. They also had a teenage daughter, Leslie. She lived in the top right bedroom of the house. Peter, the newborn baby boy the couple just had, lived in the bottom left bedroom. The couple, lived in the top center bedroom. Kruger pulled up to the house in his black F150, excited about seeing his newborn son. He had always wanted a baby boy. He took two steps before a giant blast knocked him back on his feet. He was knocked behind his truck. When he got to his feet, he saw that the room where his newborn son had been, was a giant, black, burnt hole in the side of the house. His son was dead. He started screaming and tears rolled down his cheeks. He tried to run to the side of the house but locals held him back. No one saw the Mason's boy driving away from the scene.
Leslie knew what her mother did. She knew her mother was responsible for Peter's death. Her father refused to believe it or see the signs. But, it was obvious. To make her point, she hid her father in her closet. He protested at first and then agreed. He knew his wife wouldn't, couldn't conceive of something so horrible. So, to please and quiet his daughter, he hid. His wife came into the room and saw Leslie. She smiled, a cold and calculating smile. She looked around and then spoke.
"Too bad that he didn't kill you as well. It's amazing how far men will go to get off. One day you'll learn how to do that, if you don't ... let's say," as she tapped a nail against her cheek, "have an accident first. Your father will. I've grown tired of him and he's just not as useful to me as he once was. That's why I kept him around for so long."
Kruger gaped in shock from the closet.
"I thought you loved father."
Leslie whispered, slowly. Her mother just laughed.
"Loved? NEVER! I never loved him! I just used him! Thank you, Leslie, I needed a good laugh today."
Kruger balled his fists.
Leslie's father had been useful to her mother because he used to kill for her mother. Her mother was a cannibal. She was too perfect to kill for herself - too much blood. So, she slept with Kruger and manipulated him into killing for her. He would bring the bodies to her and she would feed. Leslie would take the victim's clothes, which were stripped from their bodies before her mother ate, and wear them. Leslie liked the scent of the blood, but would never eat human flesh.
Her father burst through the closet door and hit her mother. Blood dripped from the corner of her mouth and she laughed as she wiped it away.
"Did you really think that I ever loved you? I didn't want kids, I only had these mistakes to keep you happy so that you would keep bringing me food. You're NOTHING! NOTHING TO ME! DO YOU HEAR ME, KRUGER?!? NOTHING!"
Kruger, at that moment, punched her so hard that the mother landed across the room and cracked her head open on the edge of the steel corner of the bed. She lay silent on the floor.
Then, the police came in. Leslie and Kruger could hear them from the top floor.
Kruger turned to Leslie.
"They'll never believe me that I had nothing to do with all of this. It's up to you to get out of here and clear my name."
He said as he showed Leslie a way out. He opened the window and gave her the way out. Leslie kissed her father on the cheek and jumped out of the window, landing on the trampoline. She ran, as fast as her feet would take her, away from her childhood home.
As soon as Leslie felt she was a safe distance away, she stopped and turned to watch her dad. She almost screamed. Her childhood home was now on fire and she saw the police retreat, but never saw her father. She watched as her father and mother burned alive inside of the house she was just in. She was the lone survivor of her family. It was all taken away from her in a day. Just a day. She turned her tear stained face away. She had to keep moving. She couldn't let anyone know who she was or what she was doing. So, she ran again.
She saw her father in her dreams. He was always there.
A few weeks later, Leslie got a job at a camp as a counselor. She was going to some place called Crystal Lake. This place would help her cope with what happened. She would need to forget who she was and become someone else. She looked up as a male counselor across the room smiled at her. After what she'd been through, Leslie was ready for anything.
She smiled back.
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