THE NIGHTMARE WITHIN: Chapter 1

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

It felt like waking from a dream.  Kevin certainly remembered Mr. Freakshow and how the nightmare had tormented his sleep since his dad's murder.  But now the Freak didn't rule his sleep, twisting Kevin in his ever-tightening grip. 

His nightmare was gone.   

Reluctant to leave the comfort of his bed for the day--the first day since visiting Maury Bennett that he'd woken before noon--Kevin stared out his bedroom window.  He listened to the birds singing their morning songs.  He couldn't enjoy it, this relaxation, this laziness.  It felt like a part of him was missing.  With his nightmare gone, his emotions were exposed to all the pain he'd gone through leading up to his father's murder.  The tension between his parents.  The way he abruptly learned of his parent's separation.  The pain of knowing his family had failed.  It was all there, twirling about his stomach, magnified now that Mr. Freakshow was gone.

Kevin didn't remember much about the museum or the ride home from seeing Maury Bennett.  When they had reached the sidewalk after leaving the museum, he felt so drained he could barely keep his eyes open.  His mom let him rest the whole trip home without asking him any questions about what had happened inside the glassed-in room.

He didn't know what he would have told her if she had asked.  He remembered Maury's hand on the skin of his forehead, and his touch felt white-hot, like the inside of a heated oven.  Then the heat disappeared, and with his eyes still closed, he heard a whispered voice, a foul breeze lapping at his ear.  The voice became silent, and then he felt a pulling sensation, as if his skeleton was being pulled to the surface of his skin, through his skin, leaving him a tumbled-over pile of skin and blood.

He shook his head as if trying to throw off the image.

In the void he now felt, he found pain.  Pain like a physical wound.  The answer became as obvious as the sun rising.  His loss, the focal point for all his pain. 

Dad. 

If Kevin could have waited to use the bus station restroom, even for just the two minutes it would have taken until he was safely on the bus with his mom, his dad would have stayed back in Warren Cove.  He would still be alive.

He pushed away from the bed, feeling sluggish and on edge.  Betrayed.  A paste of spit caked his lips.  He walked to the bathroom in a not-so-straight line, relieved his bladder, washed his face.  The clock on the wall outside the bathroom showed it was shortly after nine a.m.

He went down the hall to the living room, plopped down on the couch next to his mom, the pain in his stomach boiling over to anger.  The T.V. blared, unwatched, as she unenthusiastically worked a needlepoint, absently pulling the threaded needle through the round canvas, shaping the likeness of a kitten one needle prick at a time.

She noted his appearance with a glance and nod before going back to the slowly emerging kitten. 

"When were you going to tell me?" Kevin asked.

"Tell you what?"

"About Dad."

His mom kept her eyes on the needlepoint, as if gathering her words carefully.  "What about your Dad?"  She stuck the needle through the canvas and placed it on the end table.

"He wasn't coming with."

For a split second, he saw the grief in her eyes, a brittle fatigue that reminded him of the day of the funeral.

An image popped into his head.  A rare detail from one of his countless visits from Mr. Freakshow.  Amber Winstrom.  "And you let that woman come to the funeral."  He rolled the words to her, a ball in her court.