By Chef Ankilon
//Changed title. I almost passed over this story, titled “THEN IT HAPPENED,” originally because I assumed it was a “THEN A SKELETON POPPED OUT” sort. I also cut out the intro, which was irrelevant to the story, and much of the information is rehashed in the story anyway.
1963 June 27,
I had a nightmare last night. It was horrible. It was of my best friend, Elizabeth, getting brutally murdered. I couldn’t see the killer, but I did see a bloody gloved hand holding a piece of a glass shard repetitively stabbing her. It was horrible. There was blood everywhere, and Elizabeth’s screams still echoes in my ears.
When I went to school this morning, Elizabeth was not there. The teachers said that she called in sick that morning. A part of me is relieved, but a snippet of me is thinking back to the dream…
1963 June, 28,
Elizabeth didn’t come to school again. I didn’t have any dreams last night but I am very worried. I’m going to sleep now. It’s too much to think about.
1963 June 29,
Elizabeth still hasn’t turned up. I decided that I couldn’t hold it any longer. As soon as school finished, I ran to Elizabeth’s house to check up on her. The information I received when I arrived… was traumatising. According to Elizabeth’s mother, Elizabeth was mugged and murdered on the streets a couple of days ago. The murderer hasn’t been found but the weapon used was identified to be a shard of glass. I feel sick…
1963 July 4,
I haven’t been writing recently. I am still mourning for Elizabeth. Last night I had another nightmare. This time, it was my brother, Will. I don’t remember the details, but it was clear that Will was choking on something. A toy car. His favourite. I’m scared about his wellbeing.
1963 July 5,
Well I guess I was just being paranoid. Nothing any special happened today. My brother was fine. The Elizabeth incident was probably just a coincidence. I vaguely remember having a dream about my brother, but I don’t remember the details.
1963 July 6,
I WAS WRONG. Today I awoke to the horrifying sound of my mother sobbing. Felling drowsy I slowly ambled toward my mother’s figure. I was so taken aback by the sight that my legs gave away. It lay before me, my baby brother, Will, lying there with panic in his lifeless eyes. A wheel of a toy car was slightly visible through his mouth.
I cried a lot that night. Yes. I was distraught. But what gripped me more was the terror. My dreams were scaring me. I don’t know what to do.
1963 July 14,
Over a week passed without any major drama. I haven’t been getting any dreams and boy am I glad. Hopefully it stays this way forever.
1963 July 15,
NO! I had another dream last night. No. No. No. This cannot be happening again. This time it was about my mother. I don’t even know why I am writing this down. Although there are holes in my memory, the main element is clear. My mum has died. She seemed to have fallen down our staircase. I’m afraid to wake up…
1963 July 16,
I wake up to silence. It is eerie. And I know what’s going to come up. Holding back tears, I walked to the staircase. One step. Two steps. And it’s there. The unmoving figure of my mother at the base of the staircase. I do not want to go any further. I called the police, and in mere minutes they came. They asked me questions, but all was a blur. I don’t know what to do.
1963 July 17,
I’ve decided. I cannot hold it in any longer. I decided to visit a sleep therapist. I have to know what is wrong with me. Today was my first visit. They ran some tests on me. They say the results would come in tomorrow. Hopefully they figure out what is wrong with me.
1963 July 18,
The results came in…
I have sleepwalking problems.