I have a number of short stories available to read for free and thought it might be nice to link them all in one post, so if you find yourself with a bit of time to fill and like a creepy read, see below.
Full book links available as well if you decide you may want to read more.
There is also a newer short story available – In the Mountain, which has now made it into the new book, bringing all of them together in one collection of 13 creepy tales…
If you are the type of person who enjoyed watching Tales of the Unexpected and finds they enjoy a tale with a sinister twist, then you might enjoy my short stories. Here is what a few Amazon reviews had to say –
“Thoroughly enjoyed these short stories reminiscent of Roald Dahl’s ‘Tales of the unexpected’. Particular praise for ‘Clocking Off’”
“All the stories here have their own flavour. Another review mentioned Tales of the Unexpected and I’d say that’s on the money. Imaginative, well-written, I’m looking forward to more from this author.”
“Six creepy stories that are guaranteed to lodge themselves firmly under the skin. Each story invites the reader into a world where you are certain that from the very first word, things are not going to end with a cheery musical number. They are ‘dark’ stories for a reason. A quick read for those looking for a chilling end to the evening, each tale comes with its own twist. Personal favourites include ‘Doctors Visit’ and ‘Clocking Off’.”
And if you would like to read the story mentioned a couple of times there, you can find it here – Clocking Off
I didn’t know any different at the time, we had been together for so long it felt normal. Yet it wasn’t.
At first I thought it was just an imaginary friend, that’s what they had told me when I was small. They said I had made her up as company. Being an only child can have that affect they said. Yet I didn’t name her, she did.
Her name was Amelie. My name is Sylvia.
We played together, went to school together, walked and talked. She was even there when I slept. Amelie would tell me about herself, about the toys she had, about her parents too and her life. She had a little brother she talked about all the time too, I sometimes wondered if he was her imaginary friend. It never occurred to me to not want her around, it didn’t seem an option. In fact, Amelie made my childhood and life much easier and happier. I always had someone to talk to, and she seemed to know an awful lot.
She would also sometimes talk of a darkness, tell me there were things out there that weren’t safe. I would feel quite panicked when she spoke of the dark, as if a heavy blanket was being thrown over me. The light fading and breathing became difficult. But only for a moment, Amelie would see my distress and stop talking. An odd detached silence the only thing that would bring us both back to normal.
For a while though while very young, most people found this whole thing quite charming. They thought it adorable I had such an imagination, such an active mind they would say. Even when my grandmother would visit she would always say.
“She makes it seem so real”.
I knew they couldn’t see Amelie, because I couldn’t either, she was just a voice. Yet she was so much more, she was a person, just without being a person. There would have been no way to properly describe that to anyone. I wanted to though, just could never find the words.
School was rather easy for me to a point, I didn’t have many friends and preferred to keep myself to myself. This may have been because I had Amelie with me, I didn’t feel the need for the company of others. And to be honest, she didn’t care for many other people. Sometimes being quite mean with the things she would tell me about them, or things that sounded so outrageous, I could only presume she was making it up. She was great at school work, and so by extension so was I. She gave me all the answers for tests or when asked a question by the teacher. Possibly part of the reason I didn’t have many friends as well, I seemed to be a bit of a swot and always had an answer. Usually the right one, and I worked out quickly that annoyed people, but I just couldn’t help myself.
My spare time away from school was just myself and Amelie. We would walk into the woods and over the surrounding meadows, listening for the robins and sparrows. Hoping to catch sight of seasonal wildlife. I usually had a pocket full of nuts and seeds hoping to see some squirrels. She always knew the best places to find them, taking me through a dense bit of woodland and crossing a small stream. It snaked its way through the fallen branches and dark moss, giving the most wonderful smell of fresh damp earth. I wasn’t sure why this was her favourite smell, mine was the meadow. When the afternoon sun warmed the many flowers, it gave a hazy golden glow that took my breath away. The perfume of the wild flowers catching on the breeze and making me smile and sigh at the beauty of it all. We loved nature.
One day we had been walking through the fields, making our way to the woods, when Amelie suddenly wanted to go the other end of field we never passed by before. We made our way towards it, away from the worn path, tramping through the higher grasses. As we got there Amelie stopped us and began looking wistfully into the small wooded area. It was the edge of the reservoir and was fully fenced, but used to be as open as the rest of the countryside apparently. She had told me she had gone that way once, before the fences were there. But she couldn’t remember why. No-one was allowed up there now and by the look of it hadn’t for decades. PRIVATE LAND, KEEP OFF signs were posted most prominently.
We were just about to head off on our normal route when suddenly the atmosphere changed. Despite the rays of sunshine splashing onto our face, and the warm summer air, an icy chill ran through me. Followed very closely by what could only be described as fear, heart piercing fear I had never experienced. A shadow lurked behind the fence in the thicket before us. I wanted to turn but instead just stared, transfixed by what must be a trick of the light, shadows didn’t move by themselves.
“Are you ok Sylvia?”
I nearly jumped out of my skin. The voice behind me broke my gaze but did nothing for my heart rate. We never bumped into anyone up here, just their presence was out of place to what we were used to. Although my gaze had been broken, the brightness had not returned, a chill remained and so did the shadow.
“I’ve never seen you up here before, I didn’t think anyone came up here anymore. Are you ok?”
I studied his face before speaking. I had never seen this man before, yet he seemed to know my name. Maybe he was friends with my parents? He must be local to the village or how else would he know my name? There was something extremely familiar about his face but I couldn’t quite place it.
“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you. I’m just a bit hungry and my mother is expecting me for lunch. Good day”
And with that, before I even knew what was happening, we were running back towards the village and our house. I wasn’t hungry, this I knew for sure. My stomach was in knots and if anything I felt sick. But on we ran, not stopping until we got home. My mother was most surprised to see me, usually we would be out in the woods for hours, not half an hour.
“Are you ok? You look like you’ve seen a ghost?”
I didn’t know what I looked like, belt I felt pale. If that can even be a thing. I felt like my guts had been wrenched out and my very being drained of blood. Seeing that shadow and meeting that man had left an impression.
“I just felt a little sick when I got up to the reservoir fence, I didn’t want to stay out. I met this weird man as well, he knew me by name but I didn’t recognise him. I think I’m going to stay in today”.
She seemed happy with that explanation, although not too happy I was talking to strangers in the countryside. Maybe I shouldn’t play so far out anymore she suggested.
“Oh, and remember to tell me if you want a birthday party before Saturday, you are going to be Twelve. Almost a grown up!”
She added that last bit with a cheery smile, I think she gets more excited about my birthdays that I do. But I hated the idea of a party, she tried every year to get me to want one. Maybe next year I kept saying. Amelie didn’t like parties either, but she loved when it was our birthday, she told me hers was the same day as mine. We celebrated together. Every year she would say things like, ‘well, when I turned eight, or when I turned nine. It was such fun when I turned 11, my brother and went to the zoo’. But this year she hadn’t really been saying anything like that, and we were going to be twelve.
Amelie didn’t want to talk about what happened in the fields, she stayed quiet about it. Nothing ever upset her, so I was very confused about what had happened.
I had always felt safe and confident with Amelie. To avoid embarrassment for my parents and being sent to a psychiatrist, I stopped speaking of her when I was about eight. She had told me that people wouldn’t understand, and my mother didn’t so it seemed best to keep it a secret. As my birthday approached though, it seemed Amelie became quieter and more afraid.
One night two days before, she very quietly said to me ‘I’m afraid Sylvia, I don’t know what it’s like to be twelve’. I didn’t understand what she meant. I was apprehensive too, we would be going to big school and everything would change. She didn’t say anything more about it and I didn’t want to upset her, I had never felt her like this. On the eve of our birthday I tried to be excited but there a heavy feeling about our house, a gloom had settled.
We didn’t talk much that night. She had lost her usual enthusiasm and I didn’t know how to help. Maybe she would feel better in the morning I thought.
I woke to the sun streaming through my bedroom window and my mother opening my door with a hot chocolate and slice of cake! I swear she gets more excited than I do about my birthday. I got hugs and kisses and told my cards and presents are downstairs. It felt nice. The house had lightened since yesterday, I looked around the room and sensed it was all different. Nothing had moved but everything seemed out of place. No my mother had left the room, I was alone. For the first time in my entire life, I was alone.
I looked behind me, I looked under the bed, out of the window, in my drawers, everywhere. I must have looked like a mad person because it was not clear what I was looking for. I felt empty. She wasn’t there. Amelie wasn’t there. My mind was quiet, when I asked a question, just a void of nothing came back. I asked if she was still there, but I knew she wasn’t, I could feel she had gone. I sat on the edge of my bed and cried. My years after that felt incredibly lonely, and life seemed more difficult than it had ever felt. School was suddenly really hard, I didn’t have someone in my head telling me the answers all the time.
I missed her greatly and never quite got the hang of friendships. No one could quite match up to her anyway. It was a personal loss I had to carry on my own, never quite getting over it until years later, although what I later found gave me more questions than answers.
Years later at the Christening of my first child, who I had decided to call Amelie and was born upon the very same day as my birthday, I met a priest. He noted to me.
“How interesting you have called your daughter Amelie, my sister had that name, and the same birthday too. Unfortunately she disappeared when she was a child, but I am so glad her name is still going strong”.
He had a sadness with his smile. I suddenly remembered something she used to tell me about her brother and what she used to say to him, and I couldn’t help but say it.
“You can always turn that frown, upside down…”
He stared at me.
“But, that was decades ago, must have been at least two before you were born, how could you know that?”
I didn’t know what to say, I was now flushed and trying to think quickly. Amelie would have known what to say I thought. It had been a burden for so long, I needed to share it, even after all this time of burying it and trying to forget. He spoke before I had the chance to find any words.
“She went missing on the eve of her twelfth birthday. Used to go walking in the woods and meadow and that day, didn’t come back. We never found her. They say she may have fallen in the reservoir but no evidence. That’s why the fences went up”.
It was heart-breaking, seeing in his face he had always wondered what happened to her. I felt the same about why she left me and wanted to end his pain as well as my own. Now I knew for sure she had been real and that she hadn’t just been my imaginary friend. She had been my best friend. Over the years, wondering now and again if I had made it all up. The sign of a lonely child and all that. But to now know her true fate was unknown and that I had found her brother, something would have to be done.
I knew the place well even though I hadn’t been back since that day. A few days before my twelfth birthday in fact, when I had encountered the shadow and the creepy man. The dark corner she had led me to, I think I probably knew then, but didn’t want to admit it or think about it.
“I’m so sorry this happened to her and you’ve had to live with this for so long, but I think I know where to look for her”…
Taken from my book of short stories – Under the Apple Tree and other short dark stories currently available through Amazon.
Enjoy the creepiness.
Doctors Visit
His shoes and coat were in the foyer, a briefcase placed beside them. He had left his notes neatly written out, filed in meticulous order, a detailed account of every visit and diagnosis. The detective read them all.
‘The father it was presumed was harbouring a distant mental illness, one that plagued him during the hours of darkness, tormenting his sleep and keeping him awake. Leading to psychosis and hallucinations. Although it seemed to be psychosomatic, as no plausible explanation could be found’.
Despite this the doctor stayed overnight on a number of occasions. It should have been an open and shut case, with a prescription of lithium marked in the corner of the page with a question mark.
‘However, his paranoia towards his family does indeed seem a cause for concern. All of his negative energy and ideas were being thrust upon them, directly and indirectly. He believes intermittently that they were the enemy, possibly not even really his family. As his grasp with reality was deteriorating his perception of friend and foe became blurred and some days he would say they were imposters sent to spy on him.’
This was not unusual the doctor had noted in cases of mania and psychosis, and had been documented in a number of other cases. But it was the other family member’s behaviour that intrigued him so and made him return. It was as if they had all either adapted to accept this new mental state from the head of the house, or they were all suffering from a strange form of mental impairment caused by it.
‘The mother was extremely fragile and pale, almost as if she were made of a fine porcelain, with the darkest hair the doctor had ever seen. The children too had inherited the maternal line of looks, although it was hard to see or imagine what their father may have looked like when fit and healthy. They were always flitting around the house doing something, making tea, tidying and fussing. They had a fireplace in every room and were constantly stoking them. Never making too much noise though, she said noise would upset her husband. It’s hard to gauge how their relationship was holding up through this, I’ve never seen them in the same room together.’
It was remarked in the notes somewhere around his second week of visits. It was not a surprise that two adults could live in the same vicinity and not make contact on a regular basis. It appeared to be normal in many a household these days. Despite the notes, it was hard to actually tell when he had been here precisely. Each day of the week was catalogued, times of day and interviews, but with no starting date, and in fact, no dates at all. The detective was confused by this case. The house was completely empty save for the doctor’s belongings. Originally a plantation house owned by the Reeder family, who were well known in these parts. It passed down to John F Reeder who took it as a family home with his young wife Emily. They began renovations with John doing most of the work himself.
But that was over 50 years ago. Everyone knew the local story, she had run off with someone else, taking the children. He never recovered and slowly went mad, until he died in the house a number of years later. The house wasn’t left to anyone so by local law it has to be left for 60 years in case any surviving relatives turn up to claim the property. Otherwise the local council had to pay the equivalent value if anyone did turn up, it was cheaper to leave it. John Reeder had burnt all the possessions in the house during his mad years. The only thing that had remained when he died was a prison like bed, a mattress and one blanket in the top bedroom of the house. The body wasn’t discovered for a number of weeks, so the state ended up burning them too. The mangled bed frame that had been thrown from the top window, and was still evident in the garden now covered in creepers and vines. There had been no funeral, in fact he was cremated at the hospital and the ashes scattered back at the house.
So what had the doc been doing there? From his I.D they had worked out he was a professor of psychiatry from the city and had no business even being down here. No-one had reported him missing and they couldn’t even find an employer or trace of him. He checked himself into a local motel a month ago and from what seems to have transpired in his books, made almost daily visits to the house. Although the motel owner doesn’t remember seeing the doctor leave or return on any day. He paid up front and was never seen again. The only evidence of his ever existing was the motel owner as witness and his very sparse personal belongings left in the room after check out day. These included a small notebook with the house address and the name John F Reeder. Without that they wouldn’t have ever been up here until it was time to tear the old place down.
The detective went back to the visit notes. The intensity of what the doctor was observing seemed to increase over time. It was like a small window into a family’s descent into a dark tormented madness. No wonder she ran away with the children the detective thought as he read about the atmosphere in the house. As he did though, a dark haze swept over him and made him drop the book. He steadied himself on the banister closest to him. The room began swirling and his vision swimming. While trying to see through blurry eyes, he could swear that the room suddenly had furniture in it, a lamp in the corner, and curtains over the windows. An almost warm homely feel, just for a moment. Then it was replaced by cold and dark. But a musty dark that also swirled for a moment, slowly clearing to reveal an empty room.
The detective sat down on the bottom of the stairs, his legs suddenly not as stable as they were. He had never been superstitious or a believer in the heebie-jeebies, until now. He picked the book back up and carried on reading. The doctor had mentioned the basement a number of times, but after looking over every inch of the house he realised it didn’t actually have one. Highly unusual for house of this time not to have one, but there were no doors or traps that could be found. He went back to reading.
‘The children have become more withdrawn and I fear they will need help to adjust back into the normal world. He has kept them all isolated for such a time that it will do them no good to stay here. Their obsession with the fireplaces troubles me. This is where they are to be found at all hours of the day and night. Often the mother too. Emily becomes frailer by the hour. She has now told me often to not go into the basement. She stares at the door under the stairs with such fear in her eyes that I cannot say what is down there. I have respected her wishes so far, but with no explanation for the deterioration I may have to investigate.
John doesn’t even seem to acknowledge me, and he creeps around the house, checking his family are stationed at the fireplaces. Poking the flames and ashes, keeping them lit. I am trying to understand his symptoms and possible causes for them. Emily did say that when they started renovations in the basement, there were secrets down there. Secrets they shouldn’t have awoken.’
The detective stood up from his place on the stairs and looked over his shoulder towards the panelling, very neat and ornate, it almost didn’t look one bit out of place. Except that it looked so well done, it did. Wood slightly newer than all the surrounding finishes, although aged, definitely newer. The height was right for a doorway too. He could feel his heart begin to race, the room went swirly again and he held onto the wall opposite the panelling for support. Through hazy vision, he saw the door open to the basement and the shape of a man appear. The shape walked towards the living room and over to the fireplace. There was a dark shape in one hand and a long shape in the other. He squinted, trying to see better through the haze. The dark shape was thrown into the fireplace. The man shape turned back towards the basement and towards the detective. His heart pounded as he saw the long shape was an axe, and over his shoulder the dark shape had now caught fire and a face could be seen. With quickly smouldering dark hair.
The vision faded as quickly as it has happened. The room was empty, there was no doorway, and there was nothing in the fireplace. He wondered for a moment if he was going mad. It sounded crazy. Maybe he had killed his family, maybe he had got away with murder? He walked over to the fireplace in the living room, scuffing his shoes on the floorboard. Wondering what to do next or how to explain this to someone without being sent to the loony bin. He kicked the ashes out of frustration and possibly still a touch of fear. A flash of the face with black hair startling him back a step. But just enough to see the skull protruding slightly through the ashes.
The local newspaper covered the basics after the house had been searched. Plantation House of Death they had called it. Revealing the grisly details of the decapitated family, heads found in the fireplaces and bodies in the basement. But there had been more down there. Even more horror was uncovered going back to the beginning. To the old times and when the house had been a fully working plantation. The town had to accept a new history of the Reeder family after that day.
I thought I would share another of my published short stories. Not a cheery tale by any means, so be prepared if you decide to continue…
The I Scream Man
Summers had always been Edward’s favourite. Long hazy days, playing in the fields and park and spending all day with his best friend Doyle. They would be back to school soon so were enjoying the long days of holidays to the fullest.
Early evening time would come and the sound of their regular favourite, the Ice Cream Van would begin from afar. Playing that melodious droning repetitive song, they could never be sure if had always sounded so broken, or it was just dying a slow death. Like an old gramophone wobbling and creaking round and round.
But as soon as the faint music started, it would be a race to see who could make it first. Jostling for first place. The Ice cream man would give an extra flake to whoever was the winner. One morning though near to the end of the holidays, Edward called on Doyle as they had arranged but he wasn’t there. His mother answered the door and looked tired and drawn in the face. She almost looked as though she smiled when she saw him, but that faded from her face quickly.
“Edward, it’s you. I’m sorry, but I haven’t seen Doyle since yesterday. Do you know where he is? Was he with when he went to the shops?”
A policeman appeared behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Please ma’am, we’ll ask the boy the questions”.
And with that Mrs Matherly was manoeuvred into the back of the house by someone he had never seen before.
“Now son, is it ok is we ask you a few questions? Is your mother at home so we can just check with her if that’s ok as well?”
His heart was racing, he didn’t know what they would want to ask about. Had they done something wrong? Why couldn’t anyone find Doyle, why would he be missing? All of these questions started to make Edwards brain race as fast as his heart. Where was his best friend?
The policeman took him back to his house, it was only a few doors down and round the corner but it seemed like a mile. At first his mother’s face was furious.
“You’ve been out of the house for five minutes and already you’ve got up to mischief?”
But as she finished the sentence, she looked at the policeman’s face and could see there was a tired tenseness and this wasn’t to do with her boy at all.
“Sorry ma’am. I didn’t mean to cause alarm but we need to ask Edward some questions. His friend Doyle Matherly hasn’t been seen since yesterday”.
Edward couldn’t imagine what they needed to ask him, had he seen Doyle, no. It was that simple in his head. But it wasn’t that simple, there were so many questions. Did they have a hiding place? Was I keeping any secrets for him? Had he ever talked about running away? He was starting to feel stressed out by the questions, everything he could think of kept drawing up a blank. He didn’t know where he was and the reality of that thought hit him like a ton of bricks. The tears started welling up in his face.
“Am I ever going to see my friend again?”
The words game as garbled noises through his tears. He wanted this to end right now, they were starting school in a couple of weeks and were meant to be out playing. Still trying to cling to the sense of normality that had been there yesterday. How can you say goodbye to your friend yesterday and today they have disappeared he thought, how does that happen?
The town took on a sombre tone that day. Reporters and police, volunteers and family all bustling around trying to find Doyle. Search teams and interviewers all doing their thing in the hope of bringing this nightmare to a happy conclusion, but the longer it went on, the more unlikely it seemed. It was all everyone was talking about but no-one wanted to.
Over the coming days it got worse. Still Doyle hadn’t been found, and the more the news coverage went on it seemed to reveal that a number of other children had also gone missing over the last few years from the surrounding areas. They also had never been found. Edward didn’t read the papers and his mother kept the news to a minimum around him. He tried not to think the worst but it was hard. What if his friend had fallen down and hurt himself or what if he got lost in the woods and couldn’t find his way out? These were the worries that wouldn’t leave him alone. He wanted to go and search himself, but his mum didn’t want to let him out of her sight. The worry was clear on all the adults faces, but they were careful not to discuss it in front of Edward, but he had noticed.
Then the next day, the tone changed again. Suddenly there was lots of commotion around town. A body had been found. Most of the town had gathered around the streets where the boys lived, waiting for more news. People wanted to hear it as it happened, not second hand from the television or newspaper. Edward didn’t want to hear any of it. He hid away in his room as soon as he had heard. In a strange way wishing it wasn’t his friend in the hope that he might still be alive somewhere. Until they found him, there was still a chance.
But this was destined to be somebody’s grief, although Edward got half his wish for now. It was the body of a child, but not Doyle. The mystery deepened with it being one of the children from about 20 miles away, who had been missing for around 3 years. They were found in the search area for Doyle, which at that time hadn’t been searched. But from the whispers going round, it wouldn’t have been found then either if they had.
It was perfectly preserved, hadn’t aged a day they said. All the previous cases were re-opened and the mystery only deepened. Edward found it hard to fathom how it all fit together, wondering where the other child had been all this time. He had never really thought about people going missing before, nothing like this had happened in his short lifetime of nearly nine years. But now it was all he thought about. Where was Doyle? How do children just disappear? It didn’t matter how he thought about it, it didn’t make sense.
As the days went on he slept less and less, dark dreams of evil forests and monsters stealing and swallowing children. When he would fall asleep he would wake up sweating and gasping for air, as if the dark forest had taken him as well. A forest full of time holes, where you fall in from your time and disappear, then reappear dead in another time. Such strange thoughts and dreams, he couldn’t remember what it was like to not think about them. He knew he wouldn’t be going to the forest ever again.
To try and cheer him up, his mum gave him a pound to get an ice-cream next time the truck came round. Next day when the music started in the distance, he almost got excited, remembering for a moment what used to happen. It faded as the music got closer, but still he tried to perk himself up and went outside to the van.
“What can I get for you today young man?”
Edward didn’t actually know what he wanted, he hadn’t really thought about it until asked. In previous years the older boys always jumped up to look through the window and see. He was tall enough this year and suddenly felt brave enough.
“Not sure, I’ll have a look”.
And with that he quickly jumped up with his arms on the counted and glanced into the van to see what he wanted. Just as he did, the ice-cream man grabbed his arms and pushed him down away form the counted rather hurriedly.
“Not allowed to do that no more, heath and safety. Now what do you want, I gotta get on”.
His whole demeanour changed and where he had been friendly before, was no equally unfriendly. Edward apologised and feeling quite downhearted just asked for an orange lolly. He didn’t even think he would eat it. He said thanks without even looking back at the man and slowly walked back to his house with his head down. Once back in the house, he put the lolly in the freezer and gave his mum back the change for it. Without Doyle everything had lost its magic. How could he enjoy anything again he wondered.
That night was a very fitful sleep. The dreams were replaying in his mind over and over. Monstrous trees trying to eat him and Doyle, they were trying to run through the forest. Falling and tripping over tree roots emanating from the ground to grab them. Huge holes opening up ahead of them ready to drop them as a corpse into a different time. Half the time he was looking for Doyle, alone in the forest and scared he wouldn’t find him. The other half was with Doyle, desperate not to lose him and to save him from whatever fate lay ahead for him. Edward felt so powerless and scared, that by itself was terrifying enough. A new feeling of genuine fear he hadn’t felt before but he was sure would not stay with him forever.
Something was different in this dream though, it felt more real and something else lurked in the darkness. He could feel it getting closer. He turned to grab Doyles hand to make sure he was still with him. He wasn’t. The awful feeling of losing him happened all over again. The turning round in circles seeing where he went, screaming his name and hoping this time you get a response. Nothing.
But there was a noise, really faint at first, just starting to creep through. Edward tried to ignore it as he was shouting and crying into the dark forest. It grew louder though, pushing into his psyche and demanding attention. It was the ice-cream trucks dying melody starting to approach. It made Edwards blood run cold, in fact his whole body felt cold and he started to shiver. The truck got closer, but this one had no driver, just steering itself through the trees making it’s way towards Edward.
It slowly came to halt in front of him. His heart was beating so fast he could hear it thumping in his head and his chest. He didn’t want to go to the counter or look inside, but he knew he must. It didn’t look anything else in the dream at all. This looked exactly as it did earlier in real life, just without the man. He took a deep breath and stepped up to the counter, realising he was going to have to jump up again. He hesitated. Suddenly thinking something could grab him or pull him in. Another deep breath to get himself together and he pulled himself up and looked. He looked around inside the truck and weirdly it all looked normal and as it had this afternoon, even his pound was on the counter. As his eyes went over it a second time he remembered he was trying to see what there was in the freezer when he was told off. Maybe now he could look and see what it was. The coldness he felt hadn’t gone away and he even thought for a moment maybe he was being turned into an ice-cream in his dream.
But this didn’t feel like a dream anymore, this felt different. As he looked into the freezer he could see cornetto’s, ice-pops, zooms and a hand. A whole hand with fingers and everything just there in with all the ice-creams. In fact, not just a hand, but what looked like a sleeve as well showing just the edge of a jumper. Doyles jumper!
He screamed himself awake and jumped out of bed. What had he just seen? Did he see that earlier? Was his brain imagining things? He wanted to pretend it didn’t happen, he didn’t see it, it was a dream and even at nearly nine years old, you could still go mad. But the more he thought back to earlier, he realised he did see it. He was surprised at being turfed off the counter and his brain didn’t register it at the time, but now it was. And Edward meant to do something about it, his scream had already woken his mother and he told her everything from the beginning, knowing that she would listen and not tell him was being silly. And even if she did, he knew he wasn’t.
She didn’t say he was silly at all. Quite the opposite, she told him it was important and that they should tell the policeman right away. He sat on the edge of his bed while his mother made the call, the nervous excitement of telling her what he knew was now replaced with an empty sadness. Because now he knew what had happened to Doyle. Knew they wouldn’t ever play together again, wouldn’t go to big school together and he wouldn’t get to laugh with his best friend ever again.
After he had given a statement to the police, it only took a couple of days for it to be big news. The killer had been caught. The link between the communities and the previous missing children that had never been found was revealed. No-one talked about it much after, you didn’t need to, it would always be remembered as a local tragedy.
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