Broken Nightmare

Chapter 19

 I hear the soft tread of footsteps and a slender figure dashes by me. She has long brown hair flowing down a floral dress. I squint to focus on his face only to find that it's nothing but a blur.

My knees feel bruised and I find my knees plunged into moist dirt and grass. I leap to my feet and take in the scenery. Orange and pink leaves skip across the grass, which stretches for miles until it reaches the trees. There's also a lake, water shimmering in the sunlight.

The woman scoops up a little boy in her arms and holds him protectively. Her presence brings warmth to the darkness a man in front of her seems to bring. He's tall, husky, with jet black hair. He wears a black button up shirt, gray slacks, and has a gold chain around his neck. And, along with everyone else, his face is obscured.

"This is not your decision," the man snaps and, in two long strides, is standing in her face. "You knew when he was born that this would happen."

"Mommy, I'm scared," the boy whispers and buries his head into his mother's shoulder.

The mother smooths her boy's hair and kisses the top of his head. "It's okay, honey. You don't need to be scared. Nothing will happen, I promise."

The man snorts at the woman's obviously false words.

She stands defiantly, holding her son in her arms and takes a step back. He mirrors the action. "You're not taking him anywhere. He's my son, not yours."

He pauses and she continues to back away. "So it's going to be the hard way, then." He lunges at the woman and steals the boy from her arms, even though the boy kicks and hits him.

The woman screams as she reaches her arms out towards her son, but the man draws a knife from his pocket and she freezes.

"You wouldn't dare," she whispers with her fists balled at her sides. "You need him too much."

The man aligns the sharp point of the knife closer to the boy's neck. "Hurting him won't make him useless, just scared."

"Don't hurt him," the mother begs.

The boy hovers back from the knife. "Mommy, help me!"

Keeping a hold on the knife, the man reaches into his other pocket and pulls out some keys. "Or, if you want, I could use this?" He tips his head down to the boy. "How would you like to go on a boat? I could teach you how to swim."

The little boy shrinks back. "But I can't swim."

"You'll be fine," the man coaxes as he takes another step towards a small motorboat. "I'll be there to help you."

"Knock it off!" The mother shouts and storms towards them. "He's just a boy." The woman stumbles, but quickly stands back up. "Please don't do this."

The man tightens his grip on the boy. "I won't, as long as you get into the lake yourself," the man sneers. "I'm giving you a choice. You or him."

I leap to my feet. Is he going to drown her? Fighting the vomit burning in the back of my throat, I take a step towards them.

"You'll never get away," her voice quivers with hysteria. "I know the real reason why you want him and sooner or later, someone else is going to figure it out."

The man lets a pause drag out as birds caw in the distance and circle their heads. "Get in the lake."

I shake my head. No. This can't be happening. I don't want to see this, yet I can't make myself run to them. My feet feel as though they are sinking.