Dreams Come True

Part 2: The Nightmare

Part 2: The Nightmare

"If anyone wants to try to scream, you will experience so much pain," a hiss came from the darkness. "I don't think that it would be pleasant for you three to experience, now would it? Just turn around, and don't do anything you will regret."

"Alexander..." my voice came as a whisper.

"Shut up," the voice said. "Just shut up, and do exactly as I say. Okay? That shouldn't be too difficult now." He walked over to where we were standing, huddled together. His footsteps fell softly on the hardware floor, just a little click against the floor. It sounded like he had done this before.

"What do you want with us?" Alexander asked, his teeth gritted and his jaw clenched. "And why do you find so much p..."

That was as far as he got to say. The man clenched his hand, drew back, and threw a punch at Alexander's upper left midsection. It landed right on target. Alexander fell to the ground, taking Joseph with him, gasping for air.

"Alexander!" I cried. "Joseph! Are you two alright?" I knelt down and quickly looked over the two. Joseph's eyes were about as round as a silver dollar, not believing that Alexander had just been punched. Alexander's gasps were quick, short little gasps as his breath slowly returned.

"I'm fine, darling," his voice said to me. "I'm fine. Just protect Joseph. Try and call the police, or do something." He groaned, holding his stomach. "Man, that hurts."

I looked up at the stranger, trying to get a good look at his face. His eyes were brown, set apart at an odd distance, and his eyes were surrounded by bushy eyebrows. He had a broad nose, and a high forehead completed his face. The only thing that troubled me was his smile. It was set in a sneer, almost daring me to do something.

"There is more where that came from if you try doing that again, young boy," the man sneered. "Now, get up!" He aimed the gun at me.

I saw the gun, then realized a small detail that would probably save us. The gun was a fake, one of those pop guns that you buy at the toy store for a nickel.

"Try hitting me," I said to the man. "But before you do, what's your name?"

"Samuel," the man replied. "Samuel Webster." He raised his "gun" at my head. "Now, get up!"

"Why...." I asked, standing up, "......don't you make me?!?!?!?" I launched myself at the attacker, and aimed a well drawn kick at his middle. He grabbed my foot, and twisted. I turned with him, recovered my balance, and shoved him. He fell to the ground. The pop gun clattered away from his hand as it skittered across the floor.

I leaped on top of him, and started throwing punches like I was a crazy person. I aimed punches wherever I could— his midsection, his head, his face, his arms... Anywhere so that I could just get a punch at him.

"Now," I said, breathing heavily and standing over our assailant, "you just stay on the ground and don't do anything stupid, okay? Or do you really want another beating like that, Samuel Webster?" I was met with gasps from Samuel as he tried to breathe. I walked over to where the pop gun was, picked it up by the end with two fingers, and dropped it on my bed. Finally. That was over.

"Sissy?"

I turned around to see Joseph staring at me with his blue eyes. He walked over to me, clung to my pants, and started sobbing. I almost cried with him, but I bit back my tears. I knelt down and enfolded Joseph into a hug.

"Hey, buddy." I whispered to him. "Hey, now, you're all right. You're okay, Joseph. You're okay. Just calm down, and take some slow, deep breaths. Then, can you do me a favor, buddy?"