The Man in Dark BlueA Story by Mister T. My first story ever. Contains some (or lots of) grammar flaws. Introduction is included in the story itself. Introduction A story based around mystery, murder and solving a 'crime'. The main character - a boy, 15 years old - is haunted by suspicious visions and dreams. He meets a familiar person in his visions. It seems as if the man in his visions wants to tell him something. Later on, the main character discovers the identity of the man in his dreams and why the man kept talking to him. Who is the murderer? Chapter 1: The encounter As I proceeded through the empty streets, the frail light faded out. It was cold and late, around 9:30 pm. I increased my pace, going home. I didn’t want my parents to become worried about me. My feet made a loud noise when hitting the pavement below me. An obvious reason for that were my aggressive steps and my fast pace. Even though I was walking really fast, it seemed like I wasn’t going forward at all. My feet were stuck to the ground. An intense feeling of fear struck me. I wanted to get out of here. The street looked eerie, I was alone, with nobody to protect me. No-one to save me… Dark clouds were filling the open air above me. I saw some lightning strikes far ahead of me. A strong wind had kicked up. Rain was falling down the grey sky. All light seemed to have disappeared. I zipped my raincoat and put my hands in my trouser pocket. For some reason, I wasn’t able to run. My feet just refused to do so. I continued going on, slow but steady. I was thinking about today. Today was my first day at school in a new class. Summer vacation had just ended, and now I’m in the 4th school year. I met this new girl. Her smile, her face, her flower fragrance, her glasses, everything seemed to be just perfect about her. I experienced a warm feeling in my heart the first time I saw her, the first time already. We hadn’t talked a lot, also because I was too nervous to talk to her. But, she and I together, it just felt right. Thinking about her calmed me down a bit. My heart doesn’t lie to me. Coincidence? After walking for a while, I got the strangest feeling that I wasn’t alone. I saw a dim figure walking on the other side of the street a few meters ahead of me. I could recognize a man, approximately around 40 years old. He was wearing a dark blue raincoat and dark green boots. Probably to guard himself from the rain. His face wasn’t clearly visible due to the driving rain, but I saw that the man had a small beard. As he came closer, he suddenly stopped and stared at me. Should I salute him? Or just ignore him? Who is this person? The man approached me. What should I do now? Run away, just flee from him? I couldn’t, I was unable to run, I couldn’t flee. The man was saying something, but I couldn’t understand it. As he approached me, I heard what he was saying. ‘He’s a killer, don’t trust him!’, the man said, with a heavy voice. ‘Find the killer! Find the killer!’, he kept repeating. I responded in fear: ‘Killer? What killer? I don’t underst...’ ‘Find the killer, before it’s too late! Young man, you’re in danger! He’s a kil…’ ‘Wake up! Wake up!’, my mom screamed in a hurry. ‘It’s 7:30 am already! You have to be at school at 8:20!’. As I struggled understanding what was going on, I got out of my bed. I quickly put on my blue T-Shirt and my dark blue jeans. I was exhausted, even though the day had just begun. I couldn’t fully open my eyes, and my hair was a mess as always. I ran to the bathroom and put some gel in my hair. I dug in my hair with my hands. I quickly brushed my teeth and sprayed some deodorant. Afterwards, I ran downstairs for breakfast. ‘Here is your lunch for today, honey. I have to go now, I’ll be back from work at around 5:30 pm, but daddy will be home earlier. Have fun at school today!’. As my mom finished her sentence, she gave me a soft kiss on my cheek, got into her car and drove off. I stuffed some sandwiches in my mouth and got on my bicycle, hoping that I would be at school on time. I was still thinking about that dream I had last night. A lot of questions popped up in my head. Who was this man? Was this dream just a normal dream, something invented by my brain, or did it have a significant meaning? And why did the dream seem to be so realistic? All questions were left unanswered. I’ve never had this kind of dream before. Should I tell someone about it? No, they will think I’m nuts. I’ll better keep this as a secret, only for me. I shook off the dream and the questions and focussed on getting at school on time.
Chapter 2: Serious business 08:18; Fortunately I arrived at school just on time. Swiftly, I locked my bicycle and ran indoors. My school is an old building. It was used by priests as a cloister during World War II. They fought for the resistance, which obviously was not necessary anymore after the German army was fought off by the Allied forces. After World War II, the building was abandoned and left standing for a while. People were busy repairing all the damage dealt by the war. When finally most of the damage was restored, the government decided to convert the building into a school. Since the building was in a bad state, they had to put a lot of money into this project. But the result has definitely paid of; now, more than 2000 students take their college exams at this school. But, even though the big renovations, the school is still rather old. They had to enlarge the building so it could fit more classrooms. Due to this expansion, the school exists of an old and a new part. The old part has small classrooms and not much room to work in. Also, there are a lot of issues with the computers and school network. Constant server failures and outdated software make it hard sometimes to properly work with the computers. But it feels like home here, I’m enjoying my days at school. I have plenty of friends and the teachers are kind, so it’s all fine to me. On to my first class; mathematics. For some reason, I’ve always enjoyed math. It can be pretty challenging sometimes, but I like challenging myself and thinking a step ahead of what we’ve learned in class. ‘Welcome class,’ my teacher said, ‘let’s begin with today’s lesson.’ My teacher was a tall man. He always wears his brown pullover, combined with jeans and belt. He is around 50 years old, but I actually can’t exactly tell his age. He is very friendly but can be very strict sometimes, which isn’t bad at all in my opinion. He just looks like a typical math professor. ‘First of all, are there any questions about the homework you’ve made for today?’ I gently shook my head, as everyone around me did. ‘Well then, I’m going to introduce a new subject today.’ While he was talking, I thought for a second about my dream. So many questions, so little answers. I don’t know whether I’m able to sleep tonight. This man was still walking around in my head. I was thinking about who it could be. I had kind of a suspect. Maybe it was.. ‘Do you know the answer?’ My thoughts were interrupted by the teacher. I responded quickly: ‘Sorry Sir, I wasn’t focussing on the lesson.’ As the hours went by, school was finally over at 3:00 pm. I got on my bicycle and rode home. At the time I arrived at home, my dad welcomed me. ‘Hello there, my boy. How was your day at school?’, he said cheerfully. I answered calmly: ‘As always, pretty common.’ My dad actually wasn’t my real dad. My biological father died in a deadly car accident 2 years ago. On his way home, after he had finished at work, he crashed into an approaching vehicle. Paramedics carried him into an ambulance and drove him to the nearest hospital, but it was too late. His injuries were too severe to cure in a short period of time. The loss of our dear househusband was a big misfortune. Even months after the accident we still had a hard time accepting the truth. He wasn’t with us anymore. His fate, his final destination, was reached. The fate of all human beings is pre-programmed and cannot be altered. But, the path leading to our ending point, can. For some reason, this way of thinking helped me to accept it. There is nothing we can do about it. This is how life works. After we had finally moved on and picked up our lives again, things got better. We switched homes, my mother finally found a job, since she didn’t have one at the time. She now works as a nurse at the nearby hospital. My mother was determined to help people and save their lives after what happened to my dad. She also met a new man, which she married last week. I usually just call him dad, for the sake of easiness. Now we are one big happy family, as I’ve always wanted it to be.
Chapter 3: Sweet dreams We live in a quite small but cosy house. Since we live in the old part of the village, the whole street consists of old fashioned buildings. But we have a large backyard and lots of space around the house. The only disadvantage about our place of residency is " it’s very remote. My school is about 10 kilometres away. The nearest supermarket is at about 5 kilometres. But, despite the large distances, I really enjoy living here. The people are friendly and everyone salutes each other. Besides that, I’m not the only one of my age with this problem. I have plenty of friends here too " many of them going to the same school as I do. 5:30 pm; time for dinner. Today we would eat Chinese food, which I adore. I love the Chinese kitchen with its great diversity in herbs, vegetables and meat. We sat quietly at the kitchen table while eating up our meals. I noticed my mom looking at me, as if she wanted to say something. I looked back, but I only received a friendly smile from her, not what I’d expected. After a few moments of silence, my dad spoke to me: ‘How are you enjoying your food, son?’ He is a quite short man actually. I, as a 15 year old, am just an inch smaller than he is. He has short, tailor-made brown hair and brown eyes. If he’s not at work, he enjoys watching TV the whole evening, or buttoning up chores around the house. He currently works at a company delivering fork lifters and cleaning machines. My mother met him on mere coincidence. A year ago (about a year after my dad’s car accident), before she was made redundant, my mother had been working at a supermarket. Someday, a man asked her for help, because he couldn’t locate a product. For some reason, this man seemed familiar to her. They started talking and found out that they apparently had been in the same class at primary school for 6 years. How ironic! I responded to my dad: ‘Delicious as always. I would like to compliment the cook.’ He was a great cook. If my mom didn’t have the time for it " or she just didn’t want to " he would cook one of his lovely dishes. My mom added, with an ironic voice: ‘I agree. It’s a great idea, you cooking instead of me, in my opinion.’ He laughed loudly, as he always did. ‘Cooking is something feminine, am I right son?’ I nodded consentingly. We all laughed after he said this. He has a good sense of humour, as he always makes us laugh. Unfortunately, there was much homework to be done for me. I didn’t want to, but I had to. I’m a dedicated and focussed student, if I may say so myself, and I want to really do something with my life, to become successful in the future. I have a kind of ‘hidden’ dream, which is becoming a well-known computer programmer. This is also the reason why I enjoy maths; it’s really fits me, who I am. Maybe my dream will take a long time to come true, but I hope that someday, the world will discover me. This day has yet to come. Besides that, I have lots of other interests such as sports, music, playing games, etcetera. My mom really encourages me to do what I want, to do what my heart tells me to do. But there isn’t only one thing that I enjoy doing, I like doing lots of things. I’m young, I have a whole future in front of me, so many doors to choose from, yet only óne of them fits me. The real me. 9:30 pm. I was tired, so I decided to go to sleep. It has been a long day as always. And yet, I have to get up at 6:30 am next morning, since I have to cycle 10 kilometres until I reach my school. But I try to look at it in a positive way; cycling keeps me in shape. I told my parents goodnight, brushed my teeth and packed my books, changed clothing and climbed onto bed. Finally, some stress release, a chance for my head to relax. But, for matters to become worse, I’m never able to sleep in the first half hour, since my head is filled with thoughts and ideas. I always think a lot when laying in my bed. Thoughts about what happened today, especially when I feel bad. Even though I tried my best to put my head to sleep, I " again " didn’t succeed. After maybe an hour, my eyes at last gave up, and the fatigue put me to sleep. My eyes closed, and my thoughts were gone.
Red-yellow flames burst into the height. The flames released an intense heat which could be felt at great distance. Huge clouds of black smoke generated by the fire filled the sky and blocked all light. The car was completely destroyed and laid burning at the roadside. Police cars, firefighters and ambulances with loud sirens drove rapidly to the crash site to rescue any survivors " even though the chance was very little there would be any. Two cars had crashed into each other after one of the cars ignored a red traffic light, which caused a deadly accident. The bang generated by the collision was tremendously loud and the ground trembled for a split-second. The police had blocked the traffic with tape so the ambulances and firefighters could do their work properly. Hundreds of folks came to see what happened, staring with great astonishment and impression upon the situation. The firefighters were busy trying to put out the fire, in which they succeeded after half an hour. One man managed to survive the crash, leaving him many broken bones, burnt away skin and a scar on his face. I felt a hand grabbing my shoulder. As I turned around, I noticed a tall man, wearing a dark blue rain coat and dark green boots, even though it wasn’t raining at all. His face seemed familiar to me. His small beard and facial expression reminded me of someone. Haven’t I seen this person before? I didn’t get to think for a long time. The man interrupted my thoughts and spoke to me: ‘Find the killer. Before it’s too late. Find the killer!’ An intense feeling of fear struck me. ‘Killer? What killer? Who are you?’ He went on, ignoring my questions. ‘Young man, you’re in danger! Find him, before it’s too late. Time is running out. Find the killer, now!’ I didn’t know what to respond. Who was this guy? What did he want from me? I screamed in fear: ‘What do you want from me?! Leave me alone!’ I commanded my legs to run, to flee, but they refused. I was stuck to the ground, unable to move. The man grabbed both my shoulders and shook me, while still talking. ‘Don’t run away from the truth! You’re in danger, find him, before he finds you! Find the killer! Find the killer!’
Chapter 4: The first clue I woke up anxiously, after my dream had ended suddenly. I looked at my alarm clock; 5:30 am. Too early to get up yet. I was scared by the dream I experienced tonight. I was just lying in my bed, frightened of the dark, while normally I don’t really have problems with it. But I felt unsafe and uncomfortable by the words the man spoke to me in my dreams for some reason. I thought of the phrase he repeatedly said: ‘Find the killer! Find the killer!’ What does it mean? Is this just something fantasized by my brain? Not only was I surprised by the return of the same kind of dream, but the man saying the words. Wearing the exact same dark blue rain coat as he did before. His deep, heavy voice pronouncing vague sentences, his facial expression, it just seemed so familiar, but I couldn’t exactly tell who it was. I had kind of a suspect, but this seemed ridiculous. I tried to forget about the fear and the dream, and think about other things. For now, I have to focus on today, on school. I sighed, since I would rather stay home instead of going to school, as always. 6:30 am; time to get up. My legs were stiff and I had a lot of trouble getting out of my bed. Even though the difficulty, I succeeded in getting up, being very proud of myself. I was exhausted, again. I hadn’t slept very good as always, and I had trouble keeping my eyes opened. Slowly but steadily, I changed clothing and went downstairs. When I arrived at the ground floor, my mom greeted me good morning. She was busy already, bunging all her stuff into her bag; lunch, writing-material, wallet, house keys, car keys. I thought of telling her about what I had dreamt tonight. I decided to give it a try. ‘Mom? May I ask you something?’ She responded with a smile on her face: ‘Of course honey, what is your question?’ I looked at the ground for a second, indicating it wasn’t a regular question. I took a seat at the kitchen table. She sat next to me, on a separate chair. After a few moments, I sighed, and I started talking: ‘This night, I experienced an odd dream about a car crash. It was very realistic, so it cannot be something created by my brain. I was watching the crash site, a few minutes after two cars had crashed into each other. While staring upon it with astonishment, I felt an adult hand grabbing my shoulder. As I turned around, I noticed a tall man wearing a dark blue raincoat. He kept repeating the words ‘find the killer’ and that I was in danger. But, this wasn’t what most surprised me, the fact that I had also seen this man in my previous dream alarmed me. When I woke up, I had an intense feeling of fear and discomfort. Why does this man chase me in my dreams?’ My mom looked at me with a serious glance. I saw she was thinking of an appropriate answer. After a few moments, she frowned and responded with a question: ‘What did this man you’re talking about look like? How did his face look?’ Remembering the man, I replied: ‘A dark blue raincoat, and dark green boots. He also had a small beard, and his voice was deep and heavy as he spoke the words. This is all I can remember.’ Again my mom had a hard time thinking of what she would respond. ‘I can’t think of a man like this, honestly. Your father had a beard and a heavy voice, but that isn’t crucial evidence if I would say. Sorry honey, I have to go to work now, else I’m going to be late. Good luck at school today, goodbye!’ She stood up, picked up her bag and got into her car, after which she drove off. I was still sitting at the kitchen table, thinking about what my mom said. I repeated the words she told me in my head while thinking of the man in my dreams. ‘Your father had a beard and a heavy voice, ..’. Then, all of a sudden, I realised my mom was right. Of course, how self-evident, this man was my father! I had a moment of relief. His beard, his voice, his length, his facial expression, this must’ve been him. There is no doubt anymore it was him. But, the next question popped up already, which obviously was; why? Still excited about my invention, I thought about my dream. I tried to remember as much details as possible, any clues which could help me. The fire, the huge clouds of smoke, the man who had survived the accident, the crowd staring at the crash, the two cars which had crashed, … . I stopped there for a moment. The exact same thing happened to my father; two cars which had crashed into each other, and one man surviving the crash. Of course! Why hadn’t I thought of this before, how obvious! So, now that I’ve found at that my dreams actually do have a significant meaning, time has come to solve this mystery. I felt like a real detective, like in a movie or something. Collecting all the clues, form a theory and locating all potential suspects. But I was stuck at one single question: why did my father tell me I’m in danger? And, besides that, what do the words ‘find the killer’ mean? Is there an assassin on the loose? Once again so many questions, and so little answers. I thought of the car accident again, putting my detective skills to the test. My father indicated that I was in danger, so there must be someone I know who has the intention to bring me or my beloveds damage. Might this be the killer in the other car, who had survived the crash? But, this seems ridiculous, since it was a car accident. This couldn’t have been an intended assassination. Or could it be..?
Chapter 5: Love at first sight Suddenly I remembered I had to go to school in a few moments. I looked at the clock in a hurry; 7:45 am. Rapidly I stood up from the kitchen table, picked up my schoolbag, got onto my bicycle and left home. Only then after I had covered several kilometres did I realise that I had forgotten both my hair and deodorant in my hurry. But today, I didn’t really care about my hair. It’s a mess as always, but who cares? I definitely don’t. I arrived at school at around 8:10 am. As I approached the bicycle shed, I heard someone calling my name. ‘Hey! Over here!’ I rotated my head and saw a girl calling my name. As I looked at her for a few seconds I recognized her; she was that one girl I met the day before yesterday. What should I respond? How can I seem to be nice and cool guy to her? What if I say something stupid? What if she doesn’t like my hair? Hesitatingly I saluted her. She nodded me to come closer. I locked my bicycle and approached her. She gave me a friendly smile at which I reacted with a shy grin. I decided to start talking: ‘So, how’re things going?’ I said with a lowered voice. A frail smile appeared on her face. She responded: ‘I’m okay. How about you?’ ‘I’m fine, despite my messed up hair. I was in a hurry again this morning.’ She laughed because of my comment. Good job myself, I made her laugh. She is just perfect; Long and brown hair, brown eyes, just a bit smaller than me, blue coloured glasses and as sheepish as I am. I really am in love, I am sure. My heart doesn’t lie to me. Hopefully, one day, we’ll be a happy couple. Two human souls connected via their hearts. Unfortunately, my heart will have to wait for the upcoming days, maybe weeks, maybe months, or maybe forever. Together we went to our first lesson. First of all, we had a lesson with our counsellor. The counsellor decided to give us about 20 minutes for acquaintanceship. We had to choose someone we didn’t already know, so I took the chance and placed myself next to her. I barely knew her, nor did she know me, so this was a good opportunity for us to get to know each other better. I started talking: ‘I guess we both don’t know each other, so I thought, maybe we could talk a bit. I’ll let you start.’ The golden rule for men: priority must be given to women. I don’t break rules, so I let her start. She nodded, and began telling her story: ‘Well, to start off, I’m fifteen years old. I enjoy fitness and doing exercises at home as my sport. I also like theatre and acting, even though I’m not an actress. I don’t really have a hobby I like to practice. My parents have divorced a few years ago and my mom has found a new partner after the divorce. I have a younger sister of 13 years old. I’ll leave the details out for now.’ She stopped talking for a moment, looking sadly to the ground. I could recognize a lot of pain and grief in her eyes. She’s probably been having a hard time at home, but now is not the right moment for that. She looked upon me again. I understood she was done talking, so I began: ‘Well, for the sake of easiness, I’m 16 years old and I enjoy playing tennis. Besides that I adore music and playing the piano. Music is the greatest thing that ever happened to me. I have a sister of 18 years old, and a dog. That’s actually everything interesting about me. Oh, and not to forget, I’m very vain.’ She laughed. ‘Being vain doesn’t have to be bad. Good care for your hair is very important in life!’ she said smiling. We both laughed for a few seconds. She continued: ‘But, maybe you could play a song for me on the piano sometimes? I love touching and emotional songs, especially on the piano.’ ‘Of course I will, with pleasure, my dear.’ She twinkled shyly, so did I. Our counsellor interrupted our conversation. ‘Time’s up, my dear students. Hopefully you’ve got to know each other better now.’ My counsellor was a rather old man. He was also pretty tall and had almost become bald. I would estimate him being around the age of 45. His heavy and manly voice boomed around the classroom. He was rather severe, but he was a kind man and full of understanding. The bell rang, the lesson was over. All students stood up and left the classroom, so did we. On the way to the next lesson, I got interested in her story. But this probably isn’t the right time and place to ask for a whole life story. I’ll just leave it for now, I guess. I was thinking of telling her about my ‘visions’. Wouldn’t she think I’m rather nuts? She seems as a person who is full of understanding to me, but I could understand that this may sound kind of weird. Besides that, she doesn’t even know my background. My thoughts were interrupted by her asking me a question: ‘Hey, I was thinking, maybe you can come with me when school’s out? We’ll have some fun at my house, if you’re interested.’ I was surprised, but very enthusiastic. Of course I wanted to come with her, but I’ll keep myself under control, as going completely crazy over it might seem a bit strange. I answered her question calmly: ‘That should be fun, if I would say. Deal!’
Chapter 6: The scar 3:00 pm; school was finally over. I quickly texted my mam I would be home later than usually, leaving out the reason. We got onto our bicycles and went to her house. Her house actually was only a few kilometres away from our school. She lived in the same city as where we both go to school. She had a pretty small house, or at least smaller than mine, with a small backyard. It’s a typical home you would think of in a big city. We entered the house. As soon as we were inside, a small, black dog came greeting me. I petted her (it was a female dog) while she was busy examining me. ‘Hello mom!’ She called. A few moments later her mom came walking down. As soon as she saw me, a smile appeared on her face. ‘Well, hello there, stranger, you must be a friend of my daughter.’ I nodded and shook her hand, as it was the first encounter with her. She resembled her mother a lot. Not only physically but also mentally. She was a person full of understanding and with a loving heart. I could see that in her eyes. The eyes tell a lot about a person and or about his or her emotional situation. It’s not something that one can explain, it’s just a feeling you have, and I have this feeling very strongly. She nodded me to come with her, probably to her room. As we walked up the stairs, she commanded me to wait for a few moments, because she had to quickly clean up the mess in her room. I obeyed her demand without discussion. I heard her moving things back and forth. Ultimately, after a minute or so, I was allowed to enter the room. As I entered the room, I noticed a lot of pink colours. Pink and dark pink walls, light pink curtains, purple blankets on her bed. My eyes had to adjust to the sudden difference in colour. Despite the bright colours, I liked her room. It was cosy and she had a computer and a TV. ‘And, how do you like my room?’ ‘I have to say, lots of pink, but I like it. Nice TV, if I may say.’ She laughed. ‘I know, pink is my favourite colour, besides mint green. We decorated my room when I was about 8 years old, and in that time my favourite colour obviously was pink " how ironic.’ We both laughed for a moment. She invited me to come sit next to her on her bed. I obeyed her instantly. I was thinking of telling her about my dreams. She seemed to be a reliable and understanding person. It was silent for a moment, after which I decided to just go for it: ‘May I ask you something?’ I asked, with a calm voice. ‘I want to tell you something, but it is very personal. I want you to keep it as a secret, okay?’ She nodded. ‘Of course I will, I don’t see any ‘advantage’ in telling other people your secrets, only you hating me.’ She made a pretty good point with that comment in my opinion, so I decided to trust her. My heart told me it was alright, and my heart isn’t a liar. I started talking: ‘First of all, some background information, so it makes sense what I’m going to say: my biological father had died in a car accident about 2 years ago, after which my mom found a new partner, who she married a few weeks ago. Miraculously, the other man survived the crash, leaving him with many broken bones, burnt away flesh and a scar at his right eye, but he had made it. Now the point is, a few days ago, I had a strange dream. My father spoke to me in my dream, repeatedly saying the words ‘Find the killer’ and ‘You’re in danger’. Yesterday I had the same kind of dream again, but this time I was watching a car accident, after which my father spoke to me again. I was thinking about it being an assassination, but that’s just nuts. Who would try to kill someone by risking his own life?’ After I had stopped talking, she stared at me for a short time with an astonished glance. She apparently was pretty shocked by what I had just told her. She thought for a few seconds, after which she asked: ‘May I ask you, in your last dream, have you seen the man who had survived the crash?’ I was replaying the dream in my head. Suddenly I got a clear picture of the man. I summed up: ‘Not very tall, short hair, glasses, burnt away skin around his right eye, ..’ She interrupted me: ‘Wait, repeat that last thing for me, please?’ ‘You mean, his right eye?’ She nodded, after which she went on talking: ‘I don’t want to blame anyone, but you said the man who had survived the car accident in real life had a scar around his right eye " the man in your dream also had this. I don’t think it’s a coincidence.’ After thinking for a while, I realised she was right. My dream was no dream, it was a vision, a review of the past. But the next question came to existence already; Why? Why would my father show me a replay of the accident? ‘So, this was no dream, it was a replay of the past.’, I said, ‘But why would my father show me the accident again?’ She cogitated for a few moments, staring at the ground. Without looking at me, she said: ‘I understood your father was repeatedly saying the words ‘find the killer’, so..’ She looked away. I wasn’t fully understanding what exactly was going on. A feeling of discomfort struck me. ‘So what?’ I asked with a lowered tone. She looked at me with a serious glance. ‘This might not have been an accident.’ After she said this, my thoughts collapsed. Everything was just falling apart. An intense feeling of panic and anxiety struck me. Tears began to flow out my eyes. Not only because it wasn’t an accident at all, which I, and everyone, thought it was, but also because the killer might still be on the loose. What if he takes away my mother? Or me? Or both of us? She put her arm around me and tried to calm me down. ‘It’s okay, you’re allowed to cry.’ She said, with a calming smile on her face. ‘Don’t worry too much about it, I know it might be a huge shock to you, and it absolutely is, even for me, but praise your luck that the killer hasn’t done any more damage to you or your mother, or he’s still in prison. Besides that, I feel very sad for your father. He probably was a good man, who hadn’t earned such a terrible death.’ Her words calmed me down. ‘And, if things ever go completely wrong, you’re safe at my house. You’re always welcome.’ A shy laugh appeared on my face. ‘Thank you, I really appreciate that.’ Even though I wasn’t crying anymore, we were still sitting on her bed, her arm around me. My heart was enjoying the moment. This just felt right. She and I together, two souls connected by their hearts.
Chapter 7: A sleepless soul After I arrived at home around 5:30 pm, my mother saluted me. I was surprised she didn’t immediately bomb me with questions about where I’ve been, but I didn’t mind actually. ‘You’re lucky to be home now, or else there wouldn’t be any food left.’ She said with a smile. Lame joke, but I just smiled back. My type of humour really isn’t something genetically determined, since my mother’s humour is the opposite of mine. ‘Time for dinner!’ She yelled. I heard someone walking down the stairs, probably dad. As he entered the kitchen and took a seat at the kitchen table, he greeted me. ‘Well hello there, son. How was your day at school?’ ‘Pretty regular, as always. Today I had…’ He interrupted me while I was talking: ‘If I may ask you, where have you been after school?’ ‘A girlfriend or something?’ My mother added. I sighed, since I had started celebrating too early. This time it wasn’t my mother or my dad. It was both! I decided to twist the truth a little bit, for the sake of easiness. ‘I was with a friend I had met in my new class. He’s very kind.’ ‘Making new friends already, great!’ My mother said. ‘I know you find it annoying sometimes, but I just want to know you’re all safe and nothing has happened to you. See it from my point of view, as a parent.’ There we go again, the ‘text-me-all-the-time-where-you-are’ talk. I’m sixteen, s-i-x-t-e-e-n for god sake. I’m not a little boy anymore, I can take care of myself. I want my parents to trust me, not to think I’m being kidnapped if I don’t text them every hour. I think I’m too young to understand this parental problem. But I’ll just accept it and let her do her talk. I don’t want to start any discussions, since we’ve already had lots about this subject. ‘Okay.’, the only thing I said. My mom looked away while silently consuming her meal. Dad was silent, not mixing himself in the discussion. After dinner, I went upstairs to make some homework. I tried to focus on my homework, but I had a hard time doing so. I was still thinking about today and the fact it was no accident. Someone had intentionally crashed his car into my father’s car. What crazy mind would do such a thing? You have to be considerably nuts if you do. I was thinking of who the killer would be, but I couldn’t find any real suspects. I was also longing to that girl. The way she calmed me down, the way I trusted her immediately, it’s just one of a kind. I’m lucky to have met her. I decided to just stop making homework, since my brain was not capable of doing so right now. I jumped onto my bed and relaxed, just staring at the ceiling. After lying in my bed for a minute or so, I heard someone walking up the stairs. As the sound became louder, I noticed my dad coming toward me. He opened my door, after which he spoke: ‘Hey son, I see you’re busy making homework?’ He said while laughing. I answered irritated: ‘I’m just not capable of doing so right now. I don’t know why, but my brain refuses to work right now.’ I looked away, frowning. He came sitting on the bed at the end of the bed. ‘Everything okay?’ He asked. I decided not to tell the whole story, not only because I didn’t want to tell the whole story again, but also because it was too trusted information that only some people were allowed to know. For some reason I didn’t trust him so much. ‘It’s fine. It was a long day at school, and I’m pretty tired also. I think I’ll be sleeping early today.’ He nodded. ‘Good idea, sleep will do you well.’ After a few moments, I looked at his face, noticing something I hadn’t actually noticed before. The skin around his right eye wasn’t completely the same as the skin around it. It was a bit darker, as if it was damaged or replaced. Hardly visible it was, but if you would take a good look you would definitely notice it. ‘Dad? If I may ask you, what’s up with the skin around your right eye?’ His smile disappeared from his face, leaving behind a serious glance. He put his hand at his right eye, as if he wanted to cover it up, or felt ashamed about it. ‘Something from my childhood, I don’t want to talk about it. Painful accident.’ I looked into his eyes. Normally if people say such things, I can recognize a lot of pain and sorrow in their eyes, but in this case, I actually can’t. His brown eyes consisted of a big, deep emptiness. He frowned, looked upon me and opened his mouth. ‘Look, it’s something with a very painful story behind it, and I don’t want to talk about it. From now on, I want to hear nothing about it anymore, understood? No question, no words. Now go to sleep, and that’s not an advise, it’s a command.’ His tone was severe and louder than normal. He stood up and left the room, without saying anything.
Chapter 8: The murderer Speechless, I was still lying in my bed. I was absolutely wordless about what just happened. I’ve never seen him so strict, and seemingly full of hate. I was cold, even though I was lying in my bed. The dark suddenly became very fearsome. I was scared. Scared because I didn’t feel safe anymore. What do I have to do now? Tell my mom? away? Thousands of questions flew into my head. My head was a volcano ready to erupt. I wanted to just go away, run away from this ever confusing world. Why do things have to be so complex? Why can it never be a little bit easier? I started thinking about life and ethics. Life will keep hurting you and will keep knocking you down " but for a fair reason. Not because he’s a bully, but to make us, human beings, stronger. Human beings who fail to get up again, will keep receiving punches. Unfortunately, life is merciless to those humans who fail. Fortunately, on the other hand, nobody is alone. There are thousands of people around you, ready to help you. This way of thinking really fits me. It’s me who understands the negative sides of life and the reason behind it, but also see the positive part of it. Not everything which may be called ‘bad’ is just to torture you. Things happen for a reason. There is no such thing as coincidence. Most people do not want to accept or acknowledge this, or are overwhelmed by pain and sorrow, but they have to. My ideal is to make people aware of the fact that everything happens for a reason, and with that, everything comes with both a positive and negative side, no matter what it is; some things just consist of more positive or more negative things. I felt my eyes turning heavy. It gradually became harder to keep my eyes open as my thoughts went on. Thinking about such complex and in-depth subjects can be pretty tiresome to the brain. I decided to stop thinking, to clear my mind. I had relaxed a bit after I was completely overwhelmed by the situation. It probably was my mind exaggerating a little bit. Now that I had found my calm again, I closed my eyes and went to sleep, with a peaceful heart.
I heard a loud and shrill scream from the living room downstairs. It most likely was my mom screeching. Another scream. It wasn’t a scream as in, a scream when watching a horror movie or something. No, it was full of fear and high-pitched. Another scream. My heart started pulsing more rapidly and more violently. What if something terrible was happening down the stairs? Even though I was scared, I collected all my courage, got up from my bed and started descending the staircase, not knowing what I would encounter when I would open the living room door. My feet softly touched the steps on the staircase. I didn’t want to make any noise. The steps below me had a red colour. On the left side of me I could grab the handrail for more stableness. The hall light was frail and not very bright. It barely covered all the objects around me. I was halfway, when I heard another scream. My heart was pulsing very rapidly. Gradually I neared the last step. My feet thumped on the flat ground, making a dull noise. Walking on my toes, I approached the door. Walking downstairs has never seemed to take so long before. It looked like it took an hour, even though it merely took me a minute. Only a few steps away from the door. Only three. Only two. Only one. I put my hand on the door handle. Slowly I pushed it down. It felt hard, stiff, a plastic material with a black colour. The door consisted of a pure, dark green colour. The door handle was down far enough to unlock the door. I pushed the door a little bit so I could see through the small gap. I saw a man. Rather short length, short hair, glasses, a scar around his right eye… It was dad! I opened the door a little bit further, to see what was going on. He was holding something in his hands. A short, black handle in his right fist, leading to a sharply smoothened, silver end. Soon I realised what it was. It was a knife! I changed my position so I could see more of the room. Frail light covered the room, my mom was sitting there on the couch. Her face was full of fear and astonishment. He pointed the end of his knife at her. He was going to kill her! I called out by accident. The sound I made could be heard loud and clear. He moved his knife away from her face and rotated towards the door. As he noticed me, he generated an evil laughter. My heart was going crazy, I had to hold back my tears. He pointed his knife at me, even though I was at the other side of the room. His evil glance disappeared, leaving behind a serious look. His eyes were filled with hate and fury, as if he was looking for revenge. I stared back at him, keeping my mouth closed. He opened his mouth, speaking words with a lowered, demonic voice: ‘My revenge will become true. You and your mother will pay for what your dear father has done to me. Pay, you will, the highest price.’ His mouth closed. He rotated back to my mother, raising his knife into the air. Another evil laughter came out of his mouth. He lowered his fist and drilled his knife through my mom. Her last scream ended in pure silence. The lifeless body glided on the floor. ‘Your turn, little man.’
Chapter 9: House of Horror He stared me straight into my eyes. His eyes were filled with evil. As if the devil had entered his body and had taken control of him. But I don’t believe in the devil, so that makes no sense. No time to think about the existence of the devil right now. I remembered how scared I was and the fear struck me again. I collected all the courage I had and focussed it on opening my mouth, speaking words. ‘Wh.. Why? Why are you do-doing this? To me, to my mother, to your dear wife?’ His eyes full of evil turned away from me. The hand in which he was holding the knife hung down. It looked like he had a hard time finding an appropriate response, but after a while he opened his mouth: ‘This isn’t as black and white as you think it might be. You’ve heard one side of the story, but not the other. Every coin has two sides. So does a conflict do.’ His eyes closed partly. I was waiting for him to go on. ‘I can sense your fear. The killer is always displayed as the opposite of a sane, human being. Seems logic, right? Well, no, they’re wrong. Everything happens for a reason. Humans do things for a reason. It’s your mission to find that reason. To find the killer.’ I was struggling to understand what exactly was going on right now. ‘This is insane! You are the killer! My father has warned me for you!’ He looked at me, generating an evil laughter. ‘How funny, my boy! Humans are so gullible! Unfortunately for you, you’re wrong like everyone is. Blame me for being the killer, for killing your father. But by the time you think you’ve finally found all the crucial evidence you need, think again. Remember my words, and find the killer!’
Anxious and shocked I woke up. My forehead was flooded with sweat, it was hot. My heart was pulsing heavily and my respiration was unsettled. Only then I realised it was all a dream. My mother is still alive. What a relief. Even though I had come to realise it was a dream, I still felt this feeling of discomfort and uneasiness. It might be because I still had to recover a little bit, but my dream was more like a nightmare. I still remember him drilling his knife through my mother’s restless body. The end of his knife was covered with red. Blood flowed on the floor, her body collapsed. Even thinking about it horrifies me. I looked at my alarm clock: 5:30 am. Fortunately I didn’t have to get up yet. I had a hard time keeping my eyes open. Even though I had been sleeping for about 10 hours, I’m still exhausted. It felt like maybe 5 hours. The nightmare has sucked up lots of energy. I replayed parts of the nightmare in my head. ‘A coin has two sides. So does a conflict do.’ I could still hear his heavy and dim voice pronouncing the words. This would mean that one side of the story tells that he was the murderer. When I started thinking about it, a question appeared to me. What might the other side be? Is there a real explanation for all this? For my dreams? For my father appearing to me? And, not to forget, the killer just told me to find the killer. Can it get any more strange than this? I kind of had to laugh about it. Just pronouncing it; the killer telling you to find the killer. How ironic, even though it wasn’t really funny at all. ‘By the time you think you’ve found all the crucial evidence you need, think again.’ I was trying to figure out the meaning of this sentence in particular. Everything, every detail, every piece of evidence seems to be pointing to one man; my (non-biological) dad. His appearance in my dreams, his scar, his severe reaction when I asked about the scar, my father warning me for the killer. But, even though I thought I couldn’t be proved wrong, I listened to his advice. Think again, find the killer. It might be all fantasized by my brain, just an illusion, but after considering it being all fake, I became sure it wasn’t fake. This can’t be a fantasy. There is a killer, somewhere, hiding his identity. The time has to come to uncover the truth, even if I have to take action myself.
I heard my dad walking down the stairs, since he had to go to work soon. This is my chance. Without making any noise, I approached the staircase, in my pyjamas. My mother hadn’t woken up yet, so now it’s my chance to confront him. In the dim light, I gradually descended the stairs. My feet softly flopped on the steps. I was holding the guardrail for extra support. I heard him watching TV in the living room. Very quietly I entered the kitchen. I opened the drawer with forks, knifes and spoons. I grabbed the largest knife I could find in the drawer. I prepared my speech I was going to hold and prepared myself for the ambush. In a few seconds, I would threaten my dad with a huge kitchen knife. I’m insane, but I have to find out what’s going on. This can’t go on any longer. I took a deep breath. I jumped into the living room and pointed the knife at my dad. When he saw me his face was full of astonishment. His mouth opened widely. ‘Son, put that knife down, right now!’ He said with a strict voice. I ignored his command. I approached him, still pointing the knife toward him. My eyes were focussed on him. I frowned, indicating this was serious business. He backed up, protecting himself. ‘What is the meaning of this?! Are you insane?!’ My anger and fear combined formed a strong force, together with the bit of courage I had. All my anger came out in an instant. ‘YOU are insane! You have killed my father! My father has warned me for the killer, I had to find the killer, and now I’ve found him. Stop hiding behind your lies, your identity has been compromised. Give me the full story!’ His face generated even more confusion and amazement. ‘What?! Me?! How dare you, disrespectful child!’ My anger was growing, leaving all the fear behind. The volcano in my head was erupting. I came closer, taking a threatening position. Suddenly I heard the kitchen door being opened. My mom entered the living room. By the time she noticed me, a loud scream escaped her mouth. ‘Son, cut this barbaric behaviour, and put the knife down!’ ‘Stop there! I’m going to use it if necessary!’ I commanded her. She backed off at my demand. Time seemed to be standing still at this time. I was just standing there, in the living room, pointing a knife at my dad, completely confused. I couldn’t run, I couldn’t think. My legs felt weak. Both mom and dad were staring at me with their mouths wide open, as if they had got frozen. My legs broke down. Everything around me turned black, mom and dad disappeared.
As my dream body smacked onto the ground, I woke up. Only then did I realise it were both dreams, not real, false realities. I wasn’t trying to ambush my non-biological dad, he hadn’t killed my mother, he hadn’t threatened me. Everything was back to normal. I was restless. I felt like I hadn’t even been sleeping for an hour. It was cold, I felt a bit nauseated. My head felt heavy and I was having a sharp headache. In this state of physical condition I’m definitely not going to school. All the thoughts, all the dreams, all the confusion had completely exhausted me. I think it’d be better to stay at home today.
So that day, I stayed in, since I felt rather sick. Fortunately for me, I would be home alone for the biggest part of the day. Finally, some time for myself. The hours went by slowly. The TV had nothing interesting to show " as always -, so I was just lying on the couch without having really anything to amuse myself. My dreams have also been driving me crazy the last few nights, and to make matters worse, I still don’t know what I’m up to. Why does it keep happening? Am I doomed to live this life full of unanswered questions forever? Will the truth ever show up? Is there a truth? As soon as I started thinking about it, my headache attacked. Besides all these questions, I don’t really know anyone who might be able to answer them. Presumably it would sound like I’m totally nuts if I tell them. Maybe I can.. I heard someone at the back door. I sharpened my ears to hear the footsteps. Dim sound, rather soft, feminine footsteps. I guess my mom hadn’t closed the door when she left. I turned my head towards the door. A big smile appeared on my face. It was her!
Chapter 10: The visit As soon as she walked into the room, I changed my position. I nodded her to come sit next to me. For a moment, we were silent. Actually we both hadn’t spoken a single word since she had entered the room. We were having nonverbal communication. Our hearts were communicating, I guess. I decided to salute her, ultimately. ‘Hey!’ I said cheerfully. She didn’t respond. ‘Shouldn’t you be at school?’ She laughed as she spoke. ‘Well, maybe you haven’t cognized it yet, but I’m not. Fortunately.’ She generated a little smile, without replying to my comment. ‘I heard you were sick, so I came looking how you were doing.’ ‘A very good idea in my opinion. Maybe you can make my tedious day a little bit more fun.’ I winked at her. ‘I could understand if you miss me very much when I’m diseased.’ ‘Of course I do.’ I couldn’t stop a shy glance from appearing on my face. We were quiet for a while. Her hand was only a few inches away from mine. Should I reach for her hand? Or is that a step too far ahead? ‘Well, what symptoms do you have?’ I thought for a second, after which I replied: ‘I’m very cold, constantly headaches, nauseated. You know, the regular stuff.’ She laid her hand on mine. Her hand felt very warm in comparison to my hand. My hands were freezing off " figuratively. ‘I hope you’ll be better soon.’ She said, moving the corners of her mouth up slightly. Her eyes expressed compassion. I kept quiet for a moment. ‘I will, I promise. You’ve already made my day better by visiting me in my loneliness anyway.’ She blushed. ‘That’s sweet.’ I was experiencing this warm feeling in my heart again. I’ve always wondered whether two separate souls could be connected with each other, as if they’re communicating without us knowing. They share their psychic energy, and that can be noticed inside the body. This gives rise to the question of whether distance is a significant factor in their subconscious conversations. Can two human beings also sense this energy when they are miles away from each other? ‘What are you thinking about?’ She asked suddenly, looking at me. Unaware of the fact that I was staring at the wall, I shook off my thoughts. ‘Oh, it’s nothing, doesn’t matter right now.’ She nodded. The events of last night came back to me; the ‘double-dream’. So far, she has been the person who I can trust the most. She wouldn’t I’m mad if I would tell her, I guess. I decided to admit it. ‘Well, I maybe know a reason why I’m ill. I had some fierce nightmares again this night.’ Her once so happy smile turned into an earnest and questioning glance. Presumably she was waiting for me to go on. The grasp of her hand increased a little bit, indicating she was either worried or scared. ‘This wasn’t just a dream. It was an absolute nightmare. It were two dreams in a row actually. First of all, I had dreamt my non-biological dad had killed my mother, and he would’ve killed me too if the dream hadn’t stopped. To make matters worse, I woke up in the second dream, thinking everything was back to normal again, after which I tried to ambush my dad with a huge kitchen knife.’ A pair of tears were trying to escape from my eyes, but I held them back. ‘My dad told me to find the killer. Seems strange, my real father warns me for the killer, presuming it’s my dad, but then all of a sudden, my dad tells me to find the killer. I’m absolutely confused.’ More tears were trying to fight their way out. She noticed me blocking them off. ‘Don’t worry, it’s okay to cry. You’re safe with me.’ These words broke the dam in my eyes. She put her arm around me, pulling me toward her. A war was going on in my head. It was logic in a duel against my belief in the supernatural. Logic tells me this can’t be true; these dreams are of no significance or importance whatsoever. The other side tells me this is no coincidence. There is no such thing as coincidence. Everything happens for a reason. Hoping to find some calmness, I let my tears flow. ‘I know what you’re going through. You’re confused, you don’t know what to do right now. Your father keeps torturing you with nightly encounters. But losing your calm in this situation is not an option. You have to listen to both logic and the supernatural. These two combined can find the solution, the one and only truth. But only when you’re able to take control of these two forces you’ll succeed in discovering the true story.’ I didn’t respond, since I was still crying. On the other hand, the way she was speaking, her voice, it calmed me down. Her lowered, sedative sound created a little bit of peace in my head. I realised she was right as I thought about it. ‘You-you’re right.’ I said while stuttering. ‘But if things keep going this way, I will keep being followed by my nightmares, I don’t think I can keep my head above water for a long time. I’m scared that it will drive me crazy and then, I will start doing insane things. I don’t want to hurt anyone, not you, not my mother, not anybody.’ She sighed. My tears had stopped, but my eyes were still a bit wet. ‘I don’t know whether you’re able to do this, but in my opinion, the time has come to confront your dad. Ask him about it " tell him you’re story. This is the only way to find it out, if I would say.’ I was staring at the ground, considering the idea. ‘And you’re not alone. Don’t be scared things will get out of hand " I’ll be sitting next to you. You’re mother also has to be involved in the conversation. If you wait too long, it wíll drive you crazy. It’s not an obligation by the way, I just want the best for you.’ Her words made me feel more confident about the idea of confronting my dad. Together, not on my own. ‘Thank you.’ I said, gently. She turned toward me. What I was hoping for finally came to realisation; our first hug. This felt so good, so great, so safe. I wished this moment would keep going forever. Unfortunately, after a few seconds, her grasp weakened, after which her arms left me. A deep stare into the eyes. ‘You’re never alone, even if you are. If you feel lonely, put your hand on your heart, close your eyes, take a deep breath. I’m always there, ready at any time to assist you in difficult situations. I want you to remember this, to remember my words.’ ‘Of course I will. And, don’t forget, the same goes for you.’ ‘I know, you don’t have to tell me.’ Her smile reappeared. I smiled back at her. At this point, I was absolutely sure; I’m in love. Two inseparable human souls.
Chapter 11: After all Silently we sat on the couch. She was staring at her knees for some reason. We both knew what was going to happen. In a few moments, my dad would arrive. I realised we had reached the point of no return. I have to do it. I was kind of nervous. My legs and arms were shivering restlessly. I had chattering teeth from either the cold or the nervousness. I had built up lots of fear and anger inside my body since the dreams had begun. Fear for the killer, for my life. Anger of the vagueness of these happenings, of the short amount of sleep I had due to the daily nightmares. These emotions will either help or burthen me. On the one hand, they can grant me the courage to do my story. On the other hand, they can take over the control of me and make it go completely out of hand. I’m hoping for the best of course, and I’m not alone. But I’ve never had so much trouble with something. This might be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life. Imagine it yourself; you have to tell your non-biological father that your real father has warned you for him and that you’ve seen him in your nightmare killing your mother with a huge kitchen knife. Not something you would do on a regular day. And besides the story itself, what is he supposed to react? Make his excuse for appearing as a killer, admit everything and still murder everyone, just cry, run away? She saw me drowned in my thoughts. She jabbed me in my side, after which I reacted with a spastic movement. She laughed briefly, after which she calmed me down. ‘It’s okay, it’ll be fine.’ I really trusted her, so I commanded my head to calm down. I could not hold off a shy glance on my face. I heard a car coming up the entranceway. I could recognize my dad’s voice, and for some reason another feminine voice. It was my mother presumably. He must have picked her up from work, I guess. They were busy talking about their day at work. The biggest part of the words couldn’t break through the thick wall separating us from the outside world. They opened the back door. After noticing us, they immediately stopped talking. We exchanged a few looks without
saying anything. Time was at a standstill. I started talking with an earnest,
masculine voice: ‘We have to talk.’ This situation was rather awkward. My
parents didn’t seem to bother the person next to me, or make any greetings.
Everyone was in this silent and not knowing what to say mood. Without
hesitation, my mother came up to me. Her eyes expressed concern. I frowned a
little bit, not showing any grief. My dad was still confused about the
situation. Nevertheless he put aside his bag and took a seat.
I hawed. Both my parents were staring at me. My mother showed more concern than my dad. He was a man with a positive mood and a great sense of humour " most of the time. Even though he wasn’t my true father, we understood each other very well. But when he’s pissed off he can be furious. It’s better to just let him be angry and wait until he has cooled down, rather than demanding him to stop. Nevertheless, I still love him. Yet my dreams have brought me to the point of complete lack of knowledge. I don’t know whether I’m able to love him anymore. If he really is the killer, the murderer of my father, everything will change. In spite of all the evidence pointing to him being the assassin, I don’t believe he’s a wicked man. He has either learnt from his huge mistake or feels so ashamed about it he is not willing to talk about it. I was trying to generate words, but my mouth refused. As I was thinking of words and sentences, tears were trying to make their way out of my eyes. She noticed me having a hard time. She put her hand at mine. The warm feeling of her hand gave me some courage. At least it was enough to break the silence ultimately. ‘I have to tell you something.’ The words left my tongue with a low frequency and volume. I was trying my best not to let the tears overmaster me. ‘Well, to be more detailed, I have to tell dad something in particular.’ My mother’s anxious look was now focussed on dad. Dad kept his calm and decided not to react to my comment. ‘A week ago, I experienced an astonishing dream.’ I had grabbed enough courage to carry on. ‘It showed me in a dark street. I was making my way home, as I came across a man in a dark blue raincoat. For some reason, the man warned me for ‘the killer’. The strangest part has yet to come. The night after that, I had another intense dream. I was watching a car accident when I felt a hand grabbing my shoulder.’ Everyone around me was listening with full attention, as if I was telling a bedtime story. ‘It was the same man. I recognized my father, my true father. Again he told me to find the killer. But we all know how he has come to his horrible, and possibly unjust death. A car accident.’ I stopped for a moment. I had to take a deep breath. I felt their eyes pointed at me, waiting for me to go on. ‘It wasn’t an accident. Someone had the intention to kill him.’ I’d expected someone to be completely surprised by my conclusion, but for some reason, both mom and dad sat in silence, without any sign of amazement whatsoever. I was determined to finish my story. I looked at the ground, while saying: ‘My real father told me to find the killer, and I’ve found the killer.’ I looked up at my dad, pointing my forefinger at him in an accusative way. His eyes grew as he noticed me pointing at him. ‘It was you. You have killed my father.’
Chapter 12: The other side of the coin He sighed, while turning his look to the ground. Tears were coming out of his eyes. I’ve never seen him cry before. I felt kind of guilty for some reason. My mother comforted him. I was surprised by the reaction of my mother. This would mean she must have known something about him or his secret. Does she know he is a killer? Why didn’t she tell me anything about it? I could see real sorrow and grief in his eyes, something I hadn’t seen before. My certainty about the situation was fading out a little bit. I turned my head towards mother. When she saw me looking at her with a questioning look, she spoke to me: ‘Son, there’s something you don’t know yet.’ My mind just got blown. My mother knew about it even earlier than I did. I frowned. ‘It’s not dad who has killed your father.’ My mouth opened of astonishment. My whole theory has just been torn apart. I was waiting for her to go on. ‘I no longer want to be kept in doubt. I want to know what’s going on, why is my father telling me to find the killer, why am I being tortured by my own dreams, why?’ I spoke impatiently. Mother looked at me with an understanding glance. I was relieved she grasped my impatience. ‘I know, son. And I believe time has come to reveal the rest of the story.’ She rotated her head towards dad. Everyone was now looking at him in a kind of concerned and anxious way. He wiped his tears away, and started talking.
‘It was two years ago. I was on my way home from work in my car, unknowing of what would happen in a few moments. As I reached a traffic light, the lights turned green. I was relieved I didn’t have to wait for it to turn green. Unfortunately for me, someone coming from the left decided to rush through the red traffic light, and therefore..’ He had a hard time speaking without bursting into tears. I had compassion on him. I’ve never known this had done him so much sadness and pain. I even had trouble not to burst into tears myself. ‘With high velocity, the other car crashed into mine. We both landed in the roadside, which left our cars completely devastated and burning. I had broken my ribs, my left arm and my right leg. I was very, very lucky to have been rescued by field hospital. The intense flames had burnt away lots of my skin, and as you might have already noticed before..’ He stopped talking. He gently put his hand at his right eye. Now it became clear to me why he hasn’t been talking about it. I felt stupid. His scar was filled with pain and sorrow. ‘The other man, your father, was unlucky to have died in the accident. I feel very sorry for him.’ Suddenly, great hesitation struck me. I remembered my father telling me to find the killer. But that means there is no killer? With a hesitating tone, I reacted: ‘But this makes no sense! My father told me there was a killer, this couldn’t have been an accident!’ All my anger came out. I was furious. After all, even though dad has told me the true story, I still don’t know what my father was trying to tell me. My mother commanded me to calm down. ‘You’re right. It wasn’t an accident.’ My eyes turned bigger after hearing her comment. I felt tears coming from the back of my eyes. ‘Your father was mentally depressed when you were the age of 12. It’s presumable that you haven’t noticed it, since you were only 12 years old. We decided not to confront you with the truth of your father, since we both found it the best not to bother you with it. But it appears that he wants you to know the true story, which I think is the explanation for him appearing in your dreams.’ As soon as I started thinking about it, the truth came to me. With a lowered voice, I said: ‘But that means..’ My mother nodded gently. ‘Yes. The killer was your father himself.’
After hearing her words, I felt dizzy. the world around me was turning black. My legs gave up and my body fell onto the ground. The sound of the people around me screaming of fright and concern gradually faded away, after which everything turned into a black and soundless vacuum. My eyes closed for the last time.
Chapter 13: The last time I was standing in an endless room full of white. I felt no hunger, no thirst, no worries. In every direction I looked an infinite white light shined upon me. My clothes were still the same. I was stuck to the ground for some reason. I couldn’t run, I couldn’t think. All my worries had disappeared. I actually don’t remember anything from what happened before I was standing in this room full of nothing, as if I’m an empty paper. I commanded my legs to move forward, but they refused to. It seemed as if my whole body had stopped working. Suddenly, flashing pictures appeared in front of me. I recognized myself. It showed me as a baby, up until I was around the age of 16. A certain picture drew my attention. It showed me, lying on the ground lifelessly, surrounded by paramedics. The pictures were soundless, so I couldn’t hear what was going on. I noticed some paramedics trying to comfort a woman. A girl, probably 15 years old, was crying rivers of tears. I didn’t recognize the people who were standing around my body, nor did I feel any emotions. I was just staring at the picture without showing any kind of compassion. Then, all of a sudden, the picture disappeared. The flashing pictures had stopped. I heard a heavy and masculine voice behind me. ‘I’m glad to see you, son.’ I turned around, which literally was the only thing my body was capable of at that moment, besides speaking. It was my father, my real father. I wondered why I couldn’t remember my mother, or even anyone. He seemed to be the only person I knew. I wanted to walk toward him, but I couldn’t. ‘Father, finally we’ve met again. Where are we?’ A smile appeared on his face. ‘Somewhere, without pain and grief, my son. Look down. Look upon the world we once inhabited.’ From a great distance, I could recognize a village. It was dark, and lots of lights were shining in the black ambience. I looked up again. I rotated my head downwards again, but the village had disappeared. ‘Our time is over. The end date of our borrowed physical human body has come. Our souls will carry on.’ He reached for my hand, but I couldn’t feel his hand touching mine. ‘After all, we are reunited once again. Come with me, son.’ ‘If you promise not to tease me in my dreams again, I will.’ I said, with a smile on my face. A crooked laughter came from his mouth. We both generated a smile on our faces. My father, what a genius man. The end. © 2015 Mister T.Author's Note
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