The Child: Short Story

Hey, sorry for the late update. But I have been stuck at work non-stop for the past four days and working on school work for the rest of it. Before the story begins, there is some good news. In a matter of a few days, Experiment Twenty Six will be available on Amazon, and I will be working on my next project. Now that has been said, time for a story.

It had been three days since he had a peaceful night of sleep. Hours of the night passed by as he laid on his worn mattress, staring at the dirt laden ceiling fan above him as it turned slowly. He tried his best to close his eyes, even for a moment’s rest. But it was useless, every time he tried to shut his eyes, the same image flashed before his eyes. He saw the face of the child he killed.

He remembered the night it happened so easily. It was nine twenty two at night, and he was getting out of work. As he drove home, his eyes wavered open and shut as he struggled to stay awake. His car veered left and right, in and out of his lane, he hurried to make it home as fast as he could. His headlights dimmed and dirtied, he could barely see the road ahead of him. Unable to stay awake, he did not see the young child walking across the street with his dog. He tried to slow down, pressing his foot against the brake as hard as he could, but he did not stop in time. The car struck the child and his pet and killed them on impact. He exited his car, concerned for the child’s safety. Upon seeing the remains of the child and the dog, he grew concerned for his sake. Should he stay, he would be persecuted to the fullest extent of the law. In a split decision, he returned to car and left the scene, panicked about what he had done.

He lifted himself from his bed and made his way to the bathroom, stumbling as he did. He collapsed against the door frame as he entered the bathroom, exhausted from the stress. He made his way to the sink and turned it on as he did. The sound of running water filled the room as he splashed the cold water on his face. Lifting his face, he glanced into the mirror and was shocked by what he saw as he fell to the ground in shock. In the mirror’s reflection, he saw the child’s face, blood ran down from the child’s sunken eyes. The man looked behind him to see if the reflection is true. Turning around, he saw that he was the only one in the room. His breath heavy, he let out a sigh of relief. He raised himself up from the floor and made his way back to his bed. Lying back on his bed, the lights above him flickered repeatedly before burning out. He didn’t care, he only wanted to find some comfort in his sleep. He decided to change the bulbs the next day. He tried once more to close his eyes to sleep to get the rest he desperately needed.

What seemed like a moment passed as the man tried to slumber. Opening his eyes for a brief second, he saw the child stand at the edge of the bed as the little boy stared deeply into his eyes. His face vacant of emotion, the child’s pitch black eyes expressed more than the man could imagine. The man jumped back, unable to believe what he saw. He could hear the sounds of faint whispers echoing in his room as he stared at the bloodied child. He tried to tell himself that it was not real, that it was just a figment of his imagination. He rubbed his eyes and tried to snap back to reality. But it was no use, the child was still there.

As he ran out of solutions, he darted back to the bathroom and opened the mirrored medicine cabinet. He ripped it apart and soon found the answer he was looking for in the form of a bottle of sleeping pills. He opened the white plastic lid as fast as he could, desperate to end this nightmare. As he accessed the bottle, he began to consume the pills like they were candy. Halfway through the bottle, he struggled to swallow the powder blue pills as they clung to the inside of his throat. After he consumed the last of the pills, he stumbled back into his bedroom and looked at the child, confident that he would beat the illusion. He soon felt a sharp pain in his chest as his eyes began to sag. The bloodied child’s petite mouth began to curve into a twisted smile as the man collapsed to the floor. His eyes wavered open and shut as he saw his last glimpse of the child.

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