Forlot - Books 1-3 {Completed}

Chapter Two

"Ah!" I fell out of bed and hit my head against the hard floor. "Oof!"

"Nigel?!" my dad, Richard, called. He rushed in and facepalmed when he spotted me.

"Uh, hi, Dad," I greeted him awkwardly, giving him a wave. He had on his usual white shirt with the red tie, black pants, and black shoes. His brown hair was swept back.

"Oh, no. You fell off the bed again. What am I going to have to do? Put you in a crib?"

I slightly smiled at Dad's joke. He loved telling jokes to people, including me and my mom. Ever since Mom's passing though, Dad had not been the same.

He became more serious than funny and barely told any jokes. I wished that he would just go back to being himself, his true self. But that was not going to happen any time soon.

Not with Mom gone.

Dad helped me up and brushed the dust off of my pjs.

Yes, I wear pjs. Deal with it.

"Are you feeling alright, Nigel?" he questioned as he set me on my bed and sat next to me.

"Yeah," I said, rubbing the back of my head. "Though, my head hurts a bit from hitting it on the ground."

He nodded. "Your head will be fine."

I looked down. If Mom were here, then she would give me all of the kisses in the world to make me feel better.

Dad patted my arm. "So, have you had any weird dreams lately? Or should I say, nightmares?"

I looked at him and pondered his question for a moment. "Well..."

"Any dreams about the shadows?"

I slowly nodded. "Yes."

My dad knew all about the shadow dreams. I told him firsthand when I began having them. At first, he stated that it was one of those bizarre dreams that you get once in a while, but now, he was not so sure. I had the dreams with the shadows almost every night.

And they were always nightmares.

"What was it this time?" Dad wondered, crossing his arms over his chest. "Were the shadows trying to grab ahold of you? Were they trying to plunge you into darkness?"

"Actually, it was just one," I admitted. "And I think that it was trying to kill me."

"Kill you? How so?"

"I-it grabbed me by my neck with its cold...cold hand." I shivered as I said that. "It...it was choking me...trying to get me to stop breathing." I gently wrapped my fingers around my neck. I could still feel the chilling hand holding onto my warm neck.

Dad stood up. "That is it," he said. "I am getting sick of these stupid dreams."

"You can say that again," I agreed.

"Right after you get out of school, we are heading to the doctor's office."

"Dad, I do not think that the doctor can do anything about my dreams. We need a specialist or something."

"We need to at least see if the doctor might know something. If he recommends a specialist, then we will find a specialist. Whatever the case may be, we will be rid of these dreams once and for all." He went over to my drawer, picked up the clothes that were neatly folded on top, and tossed them on my bed. "You had better get ready, champ. The bus will be here in less than an hour. I already made you breakfast, and your backpack is in the other room, lying on the couch." He ruffled my brown hair.

I pouted. "Dad..."

My dad chuckled. "See you later, kiddo." With that, he left.

You see, my dad has a job here in Forlot. He works for a huge company, a company that I do not know the name of. Dad will not reveal it to me.

As a matter of fact, I believe that he does not want to.

Whenever I bring the topic up, he just ignores it and moves on to another subject. But I do not care that much. He likes the job, and it pays very good. Plus, he gets off after two in the afternoon and on weekends and breaks, so I am not complaining. That was one of the main reasons why my dad and I moved from Madison, Delaware to Forlot.

The other main reason?

To get away from all the sorrow and grief after Mom died and start a new life without her. It would be a tough road, however, I knew that Mom wanted me and Dad to be happy, and we were going to make her proud.

I got up and put on my brown pants and brown shirt. I hurried to the closet down the hall and opened it. Coat after coat and jacket after jacket were hung, and I searched for my dark brown jacket. I finally found it, grabbed it, and put it on.

Mmm. I liked wearing my jacket.

I was about to close the closet door, when I noticed something odd. I examined the shelf.

No flashlight.

I could feel my hands quivering.

Where was the flashlight?

I hurried downstairs and into the kitchen. I then saw the flashlight...

...lying on the counter.

My face flushed. "W-what?" I turned - and saw the bowl of candy on the kitchen floor. There was candy scattered all over, and...yes.

Yes!

There was a crack on the bowl's side.

Just like in my dream.

"It...it cannot be real," I told myself.

I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned - and screamed as the shadow from my dream reached for my neck.