Horror Stories

The Amazing Mr. Sykes

A/N: Hello everyone, this is the final chapter of this story. I will be writing a similar one soon, please keep a look out for it, and follow me for updates.  Thanks for reading, and voting for my story, I really appreciate it.

Timothy sneezed as some of the dust that had settled onto the pages of the book in his lap found its way into his nose. He loved spending his time in this antique shop no how much the other kids teased him about it, but it drove his allergies crazy. The furniture was out of style and he usually had no company other than an occasional elderly couple browsing around, but this place was quiet, it was peaceful, and it was all he had. Timothy glanced at the book he'd picked up upon his arrival, an old copy of Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, and sighed. He could never afford the things he wanted, and in truth this store's prices were perfectly reasonable, his parents just didn't have money to spend on anything besides cigarettes and the occasional bottle of whiskey for his father. His mother barely rolled out of bed every day, usually dressed in food stained clothes and covered in tissues from her constant illnesses, and his father had too much pride to ask anyone for employment so instead he occupied his time with handy man jobs. Their poor choices left his family penniless most weeks and barely able to put food on the table.

Most of the people in town resented Timothy's family and saw them as more of an eye sore than anything else. They just didn't fit in this small town where everyone knew each other and faked smiles on the street as they walked by. It got Timothy beat up at school most days. The kids made fun of his smelly cloths while calling his father a "Drunken bum" and his mother a "Lazy whore". Thinking about it made a tear rolled down Timothy's cheek and throw the book down on the old rocking chair in front of him in anger. He wiped the snot from his nose and tried hard not to cry, shaking from the effort of holding back the tears that now threatened to burst from his eyes like a flood.

After a few deep breaths and counting to one hundred, Timothy sluggishly picked up the book and put it back on the shelf. A moment later a bell chimed as the front door opened and Timothy instantly brightened up, jumping from his spot and running towards the front of the store. He smiled happily as he was greeted by the store's owner Mr. Garen whom he had met a few months back during his first visit to the store when he had been caught trying to steal a watch. Instead of calling the police the old man made him come back every day after school and help him with things like sweeping and cleaning the windows. After a few days the two became well acquainted and Mr. Garen learned about Timothy's school and home life. Taking pity on the young boy, he told him he was welcome in the store any time he wanted, as long as he didn't fall into old habits. Today he had come into the store with a stack of boxes in his arms and a few bags hanging from his wrists, setting them down on the counter long enough to get the ones he'd left by the door.

"Timmy my boy, would you please help me with these?" he asked with a bit of strain. Timothy rushed to his side and took a few boxes off the top of the stack, struggling at first from the hefty weight but eventually getting them to the counter. "Good morning Mr. Garen, what's all this?" Timothy asked as he excitedly opened a box, taking out various items like old knives and jewelry. "I went to an estate sale a bit up the road today," said Mr. Garen, "Apparently some poor fellow had an accident and passed away a few days ago. He had no immediate family, so the house had to be emptied quickly". He dug out pictures, plates, and little glass animal figurines from one of the bags he carried in and began examining them closely. "Hmmm, definitely a few gems here. Heh, better than the things I get from flea markets this time of year." He smiled at Timothy and roughed up his hair. "I'm going to go about getting these shelved and priced. You're free to search through the boxes, just don't break anything". Timothy smiled big. "Thank you Mr. Garen," he said hugging the man around his waist. The old man patted his shoulder then walked off with a few bags and started setting things on counters and tables, humming a pleasant tune to himself.