Nightmare in Central Park

Nightmare in Central Park

  Fantasy-Mystery story

  Jack Broscie

  Ebook – Free for everybody

  Probably The story takes place in a world of fantasy. Names and places may be imagined by the author. Any similarity with fantasy is of purely intentional nature. Some unfortunate events will occur, others also.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced and / or published by means of jugglery, magic, sorcery, or by any other means without prior written permission from the author.

  Please send your suggestions for improvements of the translation (originally Dutch) to [email protected]

  Copyright © 2015 Jack Broscie (www.jackbroscie.nl)

  ISBN: 9781311222855

  Cover: Jack Broscie

  Translation Dutch/ English: Michelle van der Helm

  Table of contents

  Nightmare in Central Park

  About the Author

  Other series, books and stories

  Nightmare in the Park

  Ann scrapes her nails over the countless little wounds on the inside of her arm. She is so intrigued by the enigmatic message on her cell phone that she doesn´t sweep further to see the remainder of the text on her screen.

  For sale

  Your dream from the future,

  You can find it in my little box.

  Your nightmare from the past,

  To be taken away in my backpack.

  My price: an equal handover,

  Next to the text there´s a button, below it the picture of the seller, a handsome guy with brown hair that almost falls over his eyes. How did PlazaMarkt get this weird search result? My search keywords aren´t even listed. Does this ad contain hidden tags? A secret? A dark secret? A shiver runs down her spine. As usually it´s dead quiet at home. Her father and mother are downstairs. They say little to each other, and they don´t talk at all. She can´t remember when it was the last time that someone in house was laughing out loud.

  She moves her finger towards the little cross to delete the search keywords ‘fantasy little brother birthday’. Instead her finger moves below the cross and pushes on the button with the text ‘Contact me immediately’. Bewildered she stares at her finger that seemed to have moved on its own. What the fuck! How was that possible? Was it caused by my new meds?

  A movement attracts her attention. On the screen the browser disappears without reason and spontaneously the app with her photo albums opens. The eyes of her little brother look tenderly at her and at the same moment she hears the doorbell. Rigid with terror she almost drops her cell phone. Suspicious she hears how her mother opens the door and lets someone in. She hears some murmur and then her mother shouts from below the stairs: ‘Ann, Tim is here. Can he come up?’

  Tim is here? What the fuck, which Tim? I hope it´s not that emo from High School who has been stalking me for years?

  She hears noisy steps rumbling on the stairs, the door to her room opens and she looks amazed when the boy, who she recognizes from the ad, enters. Tall, broad shouldered, brown eyes behind trendy glasses, blue jeans and a cool t-shirt. O lord! What a hunk, that’s another Tim than I expected, but-

  ‘who the hell is he and what´s he doing here,’ the boy fills in her unspoken thought. He closes the door and drops lazily on her unmade bed as if he is familiar with her room. He folds his hands behind his head and she stares fascinated at the movements of his arm muscles. With a look of interest he gazes around him to have a good look at her room. His eyes linger on a poster with a clammed giant oyster, then to her book collection with titles as Fables of trees, Mythes, and Reincarnation. Then his gaze moves to her collection of cd’s and then to her. ‘No, I can´t read minds,’ he adds with a wink when he sees the surprised look on her face. ‘It´s just that you react in the same way as everybody does who I contact directly, while they invited me by themselves. As if I can help it everybody is curious in his or her future dream.’

  ‘I asked you to contact me? But I didn´t at all-‘ She cuts off her own words when she realizes what Tim means. ‘Maybe I accidentally pressed that button, but how do you know it was me and where I live? And how did you get here so fast?’ At once she thinks of something. The venom that always frightens everybody who knows her appears in her voice. ‘Are you one of those creeps who hack cell phones? Is that how you figured out my location?’ She sees how the boy shakes his head and looks at her with a look of sympathy. Does he know her? How exactly did he find out about her? What dream is he talking about? Is he really here because of that ad? How old is he? Her age, seventeen?

  ‘No, nine. Or seventy-two. It depends on how you calculate it.’ He doesn´t even grin. ‘And indeed, I´m here because of the ad with my offer.’ He gets up a bit from his lying position. From his backpack he gets a rectangle little box that’s made of little wooden strips which are painted white and have miniature fittings. With a small key he picks into the little lock while he stares at her with a teasing look. ‘Are you curious about your dream?’

  ‘No, not at all,’ she growls at him. While she watches his fiddling with piercing eyes, she hears that the kitchen door downstairs opens and she recognizes the soft footsteps of her mother on the stairs. How often does she come upstairs? The door to the room next to her opens. She hears the sound of a stirring spoon in a cup and the voice of her mother. How long will she continue this sickly habit? When will her mother accept it? Doesn’t she understand how much she hurts me? A few moments’ later there´s a warning knock on her door.

  ‘Tea?’ her mother asks while she enters the room without waiting for a reply.

  Surprised Ann notices that her mother has put on some make-up. Is that because of Tim? Is it because we have a visitor? On the tea tray there are cups of tea with each two cookies. Her mother doesn´t wait for a response of her daughter and sets down the tea tray. Ann sees how her mother furtively watches the little plastic pots on the side table. She feels the anger and fear burning deep inside her, but she keeps her face motionless. What´s she thinking? That I will do it again? Or that I shall start using again? If she knew IT, she wouldn´t be worried about me. That is, if she still worries about me. Fuck, even when I walked away from home for three months and finally came home because of that clinic with those stupid doctors she didn´t ask anything. And neither did dad. As always. Fuck them, fuck everybody.

  Not looking in the eyes of Ann or Tim, her mother leaves the room before they can thank her for the tea. She closes the door behind her.

  Tim looks at Ann while he keeps on trying the little key in the lock till he suddenly succeeds. The cover of the little box opens with a soft click. With full attention Tim looks into it and then at her. ‘That wouldn´t be a bad idea,’ he says with a roguish wink. He closes the little cover without showing her anything. He looks satisfied while eating both biscuits. After one try he doesn´t touch the tea anymore. On the rim of the cracked cup a small piece is missing.

  ‘Did you write that weird ad? And what wouldn´t be a bad idea? And what the hell is hidden in that box,’ Ann rattles the sentences. It´s a long time ago that she was curious about anything. She doesn´t have a clue about this boy and what he is doing here. ‘Did you deliberately try to approach me with that ad?’

  He shakes his head. ‘No, you were the one who was looking around.’ He puts the little box carefully down next to him o the bed and stands up. ‘Come on, let’s first go outside, I’m suffocating here inside. I need some fresh air. That would also be good for you.’

  Without a word of protest she stands up. She shoves the lingering Book with her foot under her bed, she hasn´t been reading it for a long time. Not since- She walks to the window, opens the curtain and looks with pinched eyes to the other side of th
e road. The fat fingers of the grey morning fog let go reluctantly of their prey and whirl up in the air that’s warming up. The early spring sun is still hiding behind the tops of the oak trees in the middle of Central Park. They are the remains of the prehistoric woods that were chopped away because of the building of new luxurious houses. She remembers the remarks from her father when they arrived at their new home. ‘What a creepy view.’ He had teased her and had laughed at her. ‘It looks like a place in the old days where they used to have satanical rites.’

  Used to? Had he sensed IT coming? Had he know what would happen to her? What was waiting for all of them? Why didn´t he act upon it?

  When he had seen how afraid she was, he had laughed. ‘Or maybe it was a place where wishes came true, I don’t know.’

  Well, I know. It’s the place of my worst nightmare. The place where IT happened. Frightened she sees the long shadows of the trees on the grass. Like iron bars hiding something in the park. She is terrified of the park, afraid of what´s hidden there. She fears for when the truth will be found out. The shadow of the tree tops