Possessed (Edited Edition)

Christopher Clarence. There's something really strange about that boy. He's wide eyed and pale faced. Every time he grins, death strikes again. Surely a small boy cannot commit such a crime? But who's behind this massacre?

Copyright (C)


4. Night Time


That cold night I couldn't sleep. The events of the day played through my head. My mum’s reaction. My little puppy murdered in a bath and a big pool of his own blood, that he lay in. The way the sounds of the forks and knives clanking against the china still echoed through my head as well as my mum’s scream. The way Christopher walked toward me, the way he was speaking and saying ‘mummy’. There was something eerie about Christopher. Then I knew what I had to do, speak to William about his son.

I got up from my bed; it was still unusually cold. I peeled the cover off of my weak body and stood up. The creaky wooden floor boards made noise underneath my weight. I took in a deep breath, hoping I wouldn’t meet Christopher along the way. I was freaked out enough, and that boy wasn’t helping. I began to walk slowly across the landing, towards the master bedroom.

"William, I have to talk to you." I whispered, once I’d opened the door, wide. I heard a soft groan.

"What Elizabeth? You should be sleeping." he answered in a tired tone. 

"I...I think...think that..." I stuttered to get the words out of my mouth.

"What Elizabeth?" He was angry now. 

"I think that Christopher killed my puppy, and he was the one that made me fall into the pool of blood!" I said the words quickly. He sat up puzzled and half asleep, next to my mother.

"Honestly Beth. I know you dislike Christopher, but he is only seven. He won’t hurt so much as a fly. You shouldn't jump to assumptions like that." he explained, them slumped his head on his pillow and closed his eyes.

I didn’t dislike Christopher; he just wasn’t the person you’d get along with. I wasn’t jumping to assumptions, was I? After all he was the person that made me fall into the dirty bath. On the other hand, I didn’t witness him kill my lovable puppy. Maybe I was tired.

I walked slowly back to my room, the tired old wooden floorboards moaned at every step I took. I yawn whilst putting a hand to my mouth. I opened my squinted eyes, and froze. There he was in front of my bedroom door. Staring at me. Wide eyed and pale faced. I thought he was sleeping, yet he was in front of me. I decided to speak to him. 

"I know it's you doing all this!" I breathed; barely a whisper. "Why?" I asked. He just continued staring at me, and then brushed passed me without an answer. I looked after him, he was heading downstairs. Why didn’t he answer me? Why was he going downstairs, when he should be in his room?

I couldn't sleep. Christopher was talking again. He was doing that a lot recently. It always left me wondering, who he was talking to. He kept repeating ‘mummy’ and ‘yes, mummy I will’, so frequently. I mean, my mum was in bed and his mum was... dead, for god's sake. Why didn’t this make any sense?

"I love you too mummy!" his voice echoed from downstairs. I was getting suspicious. Either this boy is trying to freak me out or he is schizophrenic. Why would he talk to himself? Who would he talk to? Last of all, why would he only say ‘mummy’?

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