Nightmare

Nightmare

A Story by b.platte
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one shot

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“I met a grumpy elf today.”

I heard him speak, but the words were drowned out by the constant pounding in my head.

“Mommy! Did you hear what I said?” I watched him stomp his foot and c**k his head so that I was looking at him instead of the wall behind him. “Mommy!”

“Yeah, baby…. grumpy elf.”

This seemed to satiate him, until he kept talking, balancing himself on the balls of his feet so excited to tell me a story that I could only hear in glimpses.

“He tried to smile… was asking him about Christmas… told me that Santa wasn’t gonna give me any presents this year.” A small pout slid across his mouth but he quickly replaced it with a wide grin. “But I knew he was just testing me…”

His words went out again and I closed my eyes.

“Momma.” I felt small hands push against my shoulder and I wobbled my head up as best I could.

“You’re not even listening to my story!” His whines sent searing bolts of pain through my head. I grabbed at my temples and tried to rub away the pain. It only got worse.

“Danny, hand me that bottle.” I ignored his complaints and pointed to the orange prescription pill bottle on the coffee table.

He just shook his head defiantly at me and crossed his arms over his little chest.

“uh-uh. Not until you listen to my story. Those tic tacs always make you take long naps.”

“Damn it Danny!” I didn’t mean to yell at him, and I didn’t mean to make him jump away from me as I leaned forward and grabbed the pills for myself. I just wanted this headache to go away. I just wanted it to stop. I popped two pills into my mouth and slammed the bottle back onto the coffee table.  

I saw his face contort into the face he makes just before he cries and I braced myself for the inevitable impact that would have on my growing migraine. I slammed my eyes shut and clamped both of my hands over my ears.

Nothing.

I opened one eye open, slowly. He was gone. Both of my eyes flew open then and I whipped my head from side to side searching for my son. This wasn’t his first disappearing act, but it was certainly the quickest.

Just as I started to ease myself off of the couch I heard a door slam. It was the bathroom door, just behind me. My slow movements quickened a little, knowing he was acting out because I frightened him. I reached for the door handle and pushed down.

He locked it.

“I’m sorry sweetie. Let me in. I need a hug.”

He didn’t answer but I heard the faint sound of something eerily familiar.

“Danny? What are you doing in there?” I breathed through the tiny crack between the door and the door frame.

“If these things make you feel better, they can make me feel better too.”

My stomach dropped hard. My heart skipped a beat and made up for it with extra hard pounds. My throat clenched up and my head spun around so I could see the coffee table.

The pill bottle was gone.

“Dan. Do. not. take. those. pills.” I stressed each word through gritted teeth. Worry flushed my cheeks, and panic bubbled up from my stomach.

“Why not?” I could hear the pout in his voice.

“Because, baby, those will make you sick. They are for grown ups.”

“But…but, I don’t feel sick.”

It took me a few seconds to process what he had just said before I was pounding my fists against the door and screaming for him to let me in.

“No. You’re mad. I don’t want a spankin’” He was closer to the door now. I could hear the vibrations of a quiver in his voice. I was scaring him. He was scaring me.

“DANIEL JACOB MASTERSON! YOU LET ME IN THIS SECOND.”

I was already fishing out my cell phone from my front pocket when I heard the door click.

In a matter of seconds I was bursting through the door and reaching for the pill bottle. It was empty and my heart lurched along with my hands as I reached for my son. I started sobbing and grabbing at him, unsure of what I should do.

I called 911.


When the paramedics came they took him to the ambulance and immediately to the hospital to get his stomach pumped. They made him throw up on the way there but it wasn’t enough. It didn’t help that he was thrashing around and reaching for me with wide eyes. Panic written all over his face. I couldn’t even force myself to reach out to him, not that I was permitted to do so. My heart ached and my throat was so sore from crying out every last tear I had in me.

In the waiting room I sat, shaking, and rocking back and forth in my chair. I didn’t care about the looks I was getting from the strangers sharing the room with me. My eyes would glance up with every new sound, hoping it was the doctor to tell me my son was alright.

The sound of a door swinging open caught my attention again and I looked up. It wasn’t the doctor. It was a short man wearing an all green outfit. He walked past me, shook his head disapprovingly and then disappeared through another pair of double doors. I flashed back to the story Danny was telling me earlier, until the swooshing sound of doors opening alerted me again.

A doctor came out and called my last name. I stood up fast and raised my hand. I don’t know why I raised my hand; he was already walking towards me when I stood. Maybe it was to distract myself from the grim look on his face.

“Ms. Masterson, I’m afraid I have some bad news. Your son, Daniel, he…he didn’t make it. We did everything we…”

His words faded out as I collapsed to the ground. I felt the doctor place his hand awkwardly on my shoulder for a brief second, until everything went numb, and the oxygen was sucked out of the room.

When I wake up my sheets are soaked and my skin is clammy. I spring out of bed and run across the hall to Danny’s room. He’s sleeping peacefully, just as he was when I checked on him before bed. I creep into his room, tip toe to his bedside, and bend down carefully, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. His nose scrunches up a little before his face relaxes again.

I walk down the dark hall way and into the bathroom. There’s a half empty orange bottle on the sink. I throw it out and walk back to my room. I find another five pill bottles, two that are almost full, and throw them all away. I dig through every hiding spot I have and toss out every hidden drug, before I let myself slip into bed and commit to not sleeping for the remainder of the night.

© 2012 b.platte


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Reviews

Wow! I have a little boy so this really hit home, thankfully I am not popping pills but when I have prescriptions I will be keeping them away from my son for sure. Great job! It is definitely well written :)

Posted 12 Years Ago


b.platte

12 Years Ago

Thank you! & yes, anything toxic to little ones should be kept out of reach :)
wow! great story ma'am, the message is clear and well done

Posted 12 Years Ago


b.platte

12 Years Ago

thank you
I really need to pay attention to the title more often...great story :)

Posted 12 Years Ago


b.platte

12 Years Ago

lol thanks :)
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mbg
The story is awesome, and by that I mean by very entertaining, freaky, and well written. Entertaining because it kept me on my toes waiting for what's going to happen next, freaky because her son, well, DIED, in her dream and it felt so real. The dream was in a way a message to the mother to stop doing drugs and such or THIS could happen. The story leaves me with a sinking feeling because that could have happend, but thank god it did not, and it makes me feel greatful for what we have. Thank you for sharing this with me, i really enjoyed it.

Posted 12 Years Ago


b.platte

12 Years Ago

Thank you for reading and reviewing! :) I'm glad you enjoyed the story and got something out of it
This story has a pretty strong message in it and I love it!!
Thanks for sharing this with me... :D

Posted 12 Years Ago


b.platte

12 Years Ago

Thanks for reading and reviewing :)
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Mia
“I stood up fast and raised my hand. I don’t know why I raised my hand;" I don't know why I found that hilarious but I did. I was laughing loud.
This story is so wonderfully put together. Can I just say thank god she woke up! I did not want to have to leave this story feeling gross inside. You write with little emotion. It’s a good thing because you leave room for me "the reader" to experience my own set of emotions. Thank you for sharing...I was beginning to go through withdrawals.

Posted 12 Years Ago


b.platte

12 Years Ago

I'm not really an emotional person, and I was hoping that wouldn't affect my writing in a negative w.. read more
Mia

12 Years Ago

You're very welcome :)
Normally, I hate stories that end in the character waking up from a dream. It always seems like an "I didn't know how to end it so I won't" type of thing. In this case, though, it works. Your story has a powerful message and you wrote it very well. Good job.

Posted 12 Years Ago


b.platte

12 Years Ago

I feel the same way! I almost NEVER end stories as a dream, I feel it cheapens the ending. But in th.. read more
You really had me going with this one. I was absolutely in shock by the time I reached the last two paragraphs. I can't imagine what would have happened to this mother if her son really had died from an overdose of her pills. I can certainly understand the title.

Posted 12 Years Ago


b.platte

12 Years Ago

Yeah, I was going to have him die for real. But, I decided I've written enough stories with sad endi.. read more

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363 Views
8 Reviews
Added on August 19, 2012
Last Updated on September 19, 2012
Tags: addiction, death, dream, healing

Author

b.platte
b.platte

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I write because it makes the day worth while. :) more..

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A Story by b.platte