It's over. The Grabber's dead, the bodies of the deceased boys have been found, and it's all over.
But the nightmare is real.
Every night for the past month, Amy has suffered from horrendous nightmares. It's over, she tells herself, but that doesn't...
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I open my eyes, but I'm back in that place. In the basement, the walls cracked, and the windows barred. The air around me feels loose, but its grip on me is tight, holding me in place. The only thing I can do is look, and the only place I can look is down.
The Grabber laughs at me, his eyes flashing behind his devil mask. He's laughing so much that he begins to choke. He chokes on his own saliva, on the air, sputtering, "I killed your mother, I'll kill you too."
I'm frozen in place. This nightmare is always the same and yet it always terrifies me. It always starts the same, with the ringing of that damn black phone that haunts me every time I close my eyes. It always ends the same way, too, except today.
Today is different.
It wasn't the ring of a phone that sent me into my spirling nightmare, but rather simply because I closed my eyes. Because I fell asleep, I am returned to the memories of my past. Reminded of the horrors I saw those days I was locked away and every event that transpired. I am forever here, it feels, with no escape to reality.
The Grabber's hysterical laughter drills into my head as he repeats the phrase, "I killed her, she's dead, and I'll kill you too!" Over and over he says the words, and over and over they get louder. So loud that I would do anything to have them cease.
I want to cover my ears, but I can't. I can only glance down, down at my hands. Instead of seeing the usual blood splattered on pale skin that I see in my recurring nightmares, I find the phone clutched in my fingers. The grimy black plastic against my calloused hands is heavy with the dirt I packed inside the receiver so long ago.
This is it, and it's like a slideshow of the few seconds I remember the least but try to block out the most. My arm raises, but it's not by my will. The black phone comes crashing down, connecting with the Grabber's skull. Again and again, goes, each thunk of plastic against bone louder than the last.
The noises echo in my ears like a beating drum, louder and louder until it feels like my head might explode. I flinch at every bang. It's the worst sound I've ever heard, yet I hear it in every crack of silence. I hear that sound every day.
The Grabber still laughs, screaming the same phrase over and over. I'm screaming too, screaming for someone to make this stop, anyone. I can't control what has already happened, I can't control when he grabs my arm and drags me down. I can't. I don't. Please just anyone make this awful nightmare stop...
It's like a glitch and I'm suddenly on my feet again, looking down at the masked man in the pit. My kidnapper, my uncle, my best friends' murderer, The Grabber, whatever you want to call him, he deserves this. For everything he's done. I know he does, but I hate this part.
I raise my arms once more, it still isn't me, but it is. It's Amy Shaw, the girl who was kidnapped by the murderer who killed all her friends and still lived to tell the tale. She doesn't deserve to live, but neither does he.
