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This story is based in a real incident. Names and places were changed to protect the innocents.
Memories of A Nightmare
By J.V. Rosario
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Memories of A Nightmare
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Memories of A Nightmare
“Gee, shit,” Tito, the son of the only dentist in town, shouted as
he pulls out a brown bag from his long black trench coat. A
small Bacardi bottle came out of the bag. “Nelson,” Tito made a
gesture offering a swig to my best friend.
“My Step Dad’s, the old fart thinks that we don’t know where
he kept it,” said Tito.
The bottle went around the truck bed, everyone took a drink,
and even Lacombe and her sisters drank from the container.
This was my first time, the liquid burned my throat as it went
down it, and I was as having a severe heart burn in my
esophagus.
“What -ta-f . . . you’re doing?” a voice came from the back; I still
don’t know who this person was. However, the rest of the gang
cheered the prank.
Lacombe turned the lights on, and said, “Wow, that was dark, I
couldn’t see my hands!” Then, she did it again; she turned off
El Camino headlights. Screens came out of the back of the
truck, the same voice that I still don’t recognize, said, “F . . . king
fat bitch! Don’t do that . . . “
Lacombe turned back on the lights; she hurt the boy’s voice
and responded, “What did the idiot say?”
“What’s that . . .” my sister said, she was sitting in front with the
sisters, so she got a good look too whatever it was there.
“There . . .”
“There . . .”
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Memories of A Nightmare
Nelson and I stood up in the back of the truck so did the others,
we could see the animal leaping from one tree to another, all
that while Lacombe slowly fallows it.
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Tilley’s feet were under his legs and she tried her hardest not
to feel it. “Please,” cried out. “Let’s dumping it over, I don’t
want to touch him.”
“NO,” I shouted at her and the others. “Don’t you touch him.”
“Was your friend and my too,” Tito said, “He was, past, Isaac,
past, he is not longer there, he is dead.”
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Tito had a big chunk of his brains on his t-shirt that he cut to
make a Halloween costume. The whole head was missing, the
gargoyle grad Nelson’s head with one hand and ripped it away
front the body. Lacombe’s father called the police after he saw
the body. He looked at all of us as if he wanted to figure out
who the body belongs too. Some of the girls were splattered on
the face with the red fluid, there tears washed out their face
missing the blood with the Halloween face make-up.
And that was the beginning of all our troubles. Nelson’s old
man was the first one to question the death of his child; he
didn’t believe our story. But who could blame him; our story
was so far out there that at times I could not believe it
myself. Life got a grid on us from that moment on. Nelson was
his only child, and if you could see the painful face that man
mad when he saw his boy’s body lying on the truck bed, you
will feel his pain in your own heart . . .
had happened. The man didn’t take his son’s death well; he
began to scream and will roll over the paved road. It was a
pitiful side to see: this man pain was disheartens, as he
screams he looks at us me mere responsible for Nelson’s death.
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Tito and his family were the first in leaving town; someone said
that he lost his marvels, or that the poor boy had a nervous
breakdown. His parents told my mother that Tito couldn’t
sleep anymore that he was afraid that the creature will
comeback for him. He slept under the bed or inside his closet
and at time in his bathroom tub.
On the other hand Tilly spent months crying for Nelson, she
then stopped coming to school. My sister alleged that she saw
her at Church during Sunday mass, that there were band-aids
around her wrists. People in town whispered that she tried to
kill herself.
One by one my friends faded away from town, I was the only
one that staid.
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My brother and I slept in the same room for about two years
while my oldest brother, Michael, was getting ready to move
out of the house. John couldn’t wait for Michael to move out;
he had the best room of the house. Its two front windows gave
the room an excellent view the Millard St, and Nelsen’s house.
Michael and John spent hours in the surveillance of Mary Otis,
Nelson’s older sister. They could watch her from the Michael’s
room moving in her front lawn as she sunbathed in her blue
jean short and her biking top.
Yes, it was the best room in the house and Mary Otis knew it
well. The girl exposed herself to my brothers in many
occasions. And to be honest, my first wet dream came to pass
dreaming about her boobies one night. I woke up in the middle
of the night with a white milky guck inside my pajamas
buttons. I was only twelve then and my thoughts were already
put in motion by her.
I opened the bathroom door and walked to the hall. For some
reason I looked again to my father’s chairs in the living room.
And he was there again, as if waited for me to come out of the
bathroom. The transparency apparition was smoking a cigar,
with his legs crossing; making circular figurines with the
smoke that came of his month.
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Practice with him were grueling, if you played for Coach Wed
you ended up running and throwing the entire afternoon, so by
the time I got home my body was so tired that after my shower
I ate and went to bed. It was like that for the next three weeks,
which it kept me from thinking about the other stuff that was
affecting my life. I think that my coach save my life and my
sanity.
I became a pitcher for him, my long arms and skinny body was
made for the job, he said to me. At moments I was throwing 75
miles an hour. And with a couple of thing that coach thought
me, I was able to curve the ball. My hitting was poor so I
became the classic pitchers, no-hitting strength but a lot of
power on the pitching arm.
The job that this man did on the fields can be compared to a
master artist painting on a canvas. You could see his proud face
after his work was done on then at the end of the day. For some
reason I used to show up to watch him ride his lawnmower; I
usually ended up on it. I guess it was a better than going
home Where my father drinks himself to sleep and my mother
worry about how she was going to stop him from drinking.
One evening Doug was at the bat and I was in the zone,
previous batters were struck out and he began to challenge me
from the home plate.
“Bring it on, Kid,” the boy with the bat shouted back.
“You can’t handle me, boy.” I looked for the right signal from
the catcher, my intention were to put some fire on the ball. My
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Douglass connected with it, and the baseball crossed the space
between home-plate and the pitcher mount coming in less than
a second and landing on my forehead. Then after that
everything appears to be an episode of the Twilight
Zone. Moments later, I found myself on third base, watching
my body falling on the pitcher mount. I felt as if I was floating
in the air, moving as if there was not gravity holding me to the
earth, as if the laws of physic did not apply anymore.
I turned around to find out who was calling me, and I saw him,
dressed in his Halloween costume.
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I turned toward the voice and I saw him, he stood right there
by the 3rd base coach, but the man couldn’t see him or me.
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“That doesn’t matter now, time is too short.” Nelson didn’t let
me finish. “Come with me, I want to show you something,” he
gripped my arm and pulled me out into a tunnel of light that
appeared behind me. In a moment we were on a street, in a city
that couldn’t recognize.
The street was very clean, not even the smallest piece of paper
littered the ground, there were trees planted on the sidewalks,
with benches and flower pots on tables in front of the business
glass windows. The street lights were on, but there was still
light outside, as if the sun was going down slowly in the
horizon, slower than normal.
On the bar two men sat on the barstools, the younger of both
had pitch black hair, and made a funny gesture with his upper
lips, while the older man had a funny thin mustache. This
fellow was thick, his hand were huge, as if he did some kind of
mechanical work with them. They both were smoking, one
smile more that the other one, and both ordered coffee.
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“Am I dead?”
“No!”
“What?”
Nelson looked me in the eyes, and then began to say, ”You were
always my best friend, so I am taking this chance to tell you
that your life is going to be hard for now on. People don’t
believe you. . .”But something pulled me out of the street and
Nelson’s present. I flew through the sky to land some moments
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