A Bad Start to the Day
Posted by Frank, Apr 7, 2010. 1296 views. ID = 3457
This post was written in 47 minutes.
Joey knew it was a bad day when he fell in love with his nightmare.
This being the case when on Oak street.
He had seen her come and go from his room (always looking at him with deep red eyes before she leapt out the window) and he was scared and wonderous at the same time.
This being the case when your crazy.
But first before going into the full acount of Joeys strange case I would like to tell you a bit about Joey.
This won't take long, I promise.
He lived on a apartment on 23rd and Oak street, a shabby thing that one like him could only afford. He had no neighbors for his land lady Mrs. Shaman was once accused of murder. And no one had since ever rented something of hers again, for the victim was found without a face arms or legs, burnt in a fire of dead dogs.
Joey stayed though, when all the others left, for he liked the way Mrs. Shaman treated him. All the other treated Joey like he was an outcast (for he was, to them, an outcast) and he stayed in his room, or the villa where he gardened all the time. But Mrs. Shaman was different, she invited him for tea and eggs, she taught him to read, she was also responsible for his room being tidy.
And even though she had no teeth left, she smiled at Joey a whole lot.
Joey liked this.
Now it was on his 13th birthday that Joey was given his very first present, a book. When had arrived home there waiting on his bed was a large cake with 13 glistening candles on it.
Remember this is a true story.
And beside the cake was a small wire cage. Inside the cage was a frog. Stepping from behind the door she said, softly, "I know you like Frogs."
"Mrs. Shaman, I don't know what to say."
"Thank me, thats all."
And with that (he never actually saw her) she was gone.
Gone from the room.
Joey was happy, well, as happy as a downsyndrome child could be without love, as happy as anyone could be without love, for all that matter. Joey sat on the bed and ate all the cake, the candles too. He fed some to the frog, although Jerry (his name for the beast) would not eat it. He would find some mosquitos and bugs for it tommorow in the garden.
He knew this for sure.
After this he took a look at the other gift she had given him. It was a small paperback with a small (yet cute) picture of a rabbit on it.
The title was Watership Down.
He smiled, a clever title indeed, something that only a few books had. He turned a couple pages, past the boring things like references and intoductions, the story of the rabbits was what he wanted (as much want as a down syndrome kid could want) to read the actual story.
He read aloud to himself, but there were others listening.
Listening to the dark stories.
An hour later he was sleepy. He also wanted to stop reading because his nightlight might attract monsters, like the monsters in the story. The fields of blood that the little rabbit saw in his mind, that were visions of things to come, scary things.
But he was a big boy now, 13, he didn't cry and he wasn't scared. Never.
After his bath, Joey Finch of Oak Street, lay between his sheets and waited for sleep.
Remeber, all I tell you is true.
Now about fifteen minutes later, when he was almost asleep he heard someone calling.
"Joey, Joey, wake up, Joey."
He turned on his side and starred into the dark eyes of his only nightmare. He did not scream (he had a feeling she would visit again tonight), he not call for help, for no one would help him, he was alone.
But he was not scared.
Softly, to his nightmare, "Hello."
"Joey, its me, mommy."
He loved his mommy, loved her like nothing else.
Now before I go on (this also won't take long) I want to tell you something more. Joeys mommy had offically had become his nightmare the day he came home and found her with her eyes rolled back and starring at the ceilling and blood everywhere. And from her hand had fallen Daddys revolver.
She had shot herself, and the sight so horrible, Joey had never forgotten.
But she still visited him every now and then, though when he told others, they always looked at him all strange like.
"Joey, mommy can't stay long, I have something to tell you."
"But you always leave so soon, mommy, I love you so much, can't you stay for my birthday, its Joeys birthday mommy, have you forgotten my birthday."
With tears "No, I haven't forgot your birthday."
"Nothing pleases Joey more then to see mommy, especially now your not covered in all that red stuff."
"Joey, one day you'll understand why I had to go, Daddy wasn't being nice to me, and I had to go before he started being mean to you, I love you Joey. But now mommy has a special gift for you."
She held up her hand and showed him the gun, the gun he still remembered.
"No, take it away, Joey doesn't want that."
"Joey, listen to me, you need this more then ever now."
It was then that he heard someone comming up the stairs. Someone creeping, like the kind of creeping the people did in the movies he wasn't allowed to watch. Those scary movies. The kind of creeping that is silent, but still wants you to hear it so you can be afraid of it.
"Joey listen, I want you to shoot me."
"Mommy? I can't shoot mommy, mommy already shot herself."
"Joey listen, this is the one thing you must do to make happy, don't you want to make me happy?"
"Then shoot mommy right here." she rubbed her heart, and he noticed it glowed red like her eyes.
The creeping was louder, and the person creeping was whispering to themselves.
"I'm comming... I wanna be... wanna be your best friend... wanna be... close to you."
His worst nightmare stood from where she was kneeling by his bedside.
"Do it when I say so? Promise."
"I promise mommy," he cried.
"I love ya... wanna be... wanna be your best friend... wanna be, wanna be... near."
"When I say three, pull the trigger Joey."
He aimed the gun, though he had never aimed a gun before.
"I love you mommy."
"3! Shoot Joey, shoot!"
And he did.
There was a loud bang and a bright flash, the gun kicked in his hand and smoke arose. Mommy wasn't there anymore. No, she was gone, not even fallen like he expected, she was plain out of sight. Kind of like she had dissapeared.
Remeber, this is a true story.
And in the place where he stood, there stood Mrs. Shaman. She was carrying a small axe and it was high above her head. She did not look normal, now she looked angry, like she wanted to kill him.
"Wanna be... wanna be your best friend."
She wanted to kill Joey.
But she couldn't, for there under her chest was a small red dot, the red on her chest soon spread until it was all over her.
"You... " she stammered.
He had shot her, right in the heart.
Mrs. Shaman fell on the floor, writhed on the floor, then was still.
In the next three years, he never stopped talking about how mommy had saved him from what the police called "a cerial killer," which Joey never understood why, for he ate cereal all the time, and he never had to shoot it.
He was taken in by St. Dominos hospital ward and there he met other people like him, where he was taken care of.
But never again, though it pains me to say this, but never again did Joey see his mommy.
True story.Copyright 2010 Frank. All rights reserved. FifteenMinutesOfFiction.com has been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work. For permission to reprint this item, please contact the author.
|This post is part of a writing prompt: A Bad Start to the Day|
Search for Great Fiction
Use the google search bar below to find writings exclusively on this site.