Through Matt’s Eyes

-Friday, July 31st 2000-

I made several strokes on the mostly covered canvas in the art room on the lower level of my house. The brush was covered with red paint, but it was going from the brush to the painting. I set that brush down and picked up the other brush and dipped it in my blue and made a few dabs, and it was finished. I stood back and admired my work. It was a few dark buildings with a rainbow sky and the streets were dark and enveloped in shadows like the buildings. Jared walked into the room from the game room, next-door.

"What do you think, Jare?" I asked.

"Wow!" he cried. "It's awesome!" He smiled until his dimples nearly took over his entire face.

"Thanks, man!" I hugged the six-year-old. I went in to the bathroom and washed my hands. In the process, my mom called from upstairs. Someone was on the phone for me. I hurried up and rushed up the stairs.

"It's Sam," my mom said.

"Thanks, " I replied. "Hello."

"Hey, Matt," Sam said on the other line. "I was wondering if you were still gonna be able to spend the night?"

"Yeah, I should be able to. Hey, Mom. Sam wants to know if I can spend the night."

"Did you clean up your mess in the art room?"

"Yes, Mom..."

"Okay, then yes."

"She said it was okay," I told Sam.

"Okay, cool!"

"I'll be there in about ten minutes."

"See ya."

"Okay, bye." I hung up the phone and went up to my room. I packed a pair of pants and a shirt in my suitcase, along with undergarments and some socks. When I was finished packing, I went to the restroom and then went downstairs and waited for my mom to take me to Sam's house.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

"Yeah." I followed her to the car and got inside. She started the car and pulled out of the driveway. We stopped at the local QT and picked up twenty dollars worth of gas and a couple of 32 ouncers of our favorite drinks. My mom paid the large man behind the counter and we were back on the road, five minutes for me, but fifteen for Mom.

I got out of the car and turned around to grab my suitcase and my drink. "See ya later, Mom."

"Bye Matt." She leaned in to hug me, and I leaned in too. I walked away from the car after closing the passenger-side door and made my way up the incline leading to Sam's front door. I rang the doorbell and waited a few seconds. Sam ran from downstairs and to the door to open it up.

"Hey, buddy!" I said.

"Hey, Matt." Sam replied.

"What happened to your arm?" I asked.

"I was jumping on the trampoline, and I landed on it."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, but I've gotta tell you..."

"What?" I asked.

"I have been seeing things."

"What do you mean?"

"I was eating dinner, and my food began talking to me!"

"What are you talking about?" I laughed. "Food doesn't talk!"

"It freaking did!"

"You must be tired; imagining things!"

"Ok, well, let's just not talk about it anymore, and go get something to drink!" he said. You could tell that he was a little irritated that I didn't believe him. He got over it soon afterward.

"What do you have to drink around here?" I asked.

"I have Diet Dr. Pepper or Orange soda." Sam replied.

"I'll have an orange soda." I replied.

Sam reached into the fridge and pulled out a chilled orange can of soda and handed it to me, then grabbed one for himself.

"Thanks." I said.

"No problem."

We headed upstairs and sat down on the floor. The cold soda felt nice going down my throat and tasted really good. A fly flew through the small space between the door and the door jam and buzzed toward me and landed on the floor lamp adjacent to me.

"What do you wanna do, Sam?" I asked.

"I don't know..."

"Well, do you have any good movies?"

"How about Bruce Almighty?"

"Sounds good," I replied.

Sam got the DVD out and turned on the PS2. The tray slid out and he put the disc on it. He went through a couple of screens to get to the menu screen. "I feel kind of weird." Sam whispered.

"How so?" I asked. "Dizzy?"

"No, I just feel like there's some sort of presence...I don't know how to explain it..."

"That's kind of weird!" I replied.

"Whoa! What's that?" Sam pointed to the area behind me.

I turned around. "What?" I saw nothing but a door halfway open, leading to a filthy long due for a cleaning, bathroom. "There's nothing there."

"I swear there was something there! A black cloaked figure...just there a second ago..."

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"...I don't know..." he trailed off. "I've seen a few things since I broke my arm...at dinner...I don't know what is going on!"

"Hmm..." I said.

"...you know what?" Sam said.

"What, Sam?"

"Dr. Sheenic is doing this to me..."

"What do you mean?"

"..."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Forget it. Let's just watch the movie, okay, Matt?"

"...okay, Sam."

Sam pressed play and we kicked back with our half empty sodas to watch the show. Some previews played before the movie started. Sam stood up and turned the light bulb and the light faded out of existence. He sat back down to watch the movie.

The TV was casting an ever-changing glow over our expressionless faces, until finally, the screen went black and showed the credits.

"I haven't seen that movie in a while," I said. "I like it as much this time as I did the first day I saw it."

"I haven't either..." Sam yawned.

I laid back and rested my head on a conveniently placed pillow and closed my eyes for a moment. "Are you as tired as I am?" I asked.

"I don't know, but I am pretty tired," he replied.

"Yeah," I said. "But I'm not ready to go to bed yet though."

"You just wanna watch TV until we are ready?" Sam asked.

"Sure."

Sam reached down next to him and picked up the remote and pressed a button that turned it to channel 49.

We watched TV for a while and then we got ready for bed and went. After I got all comfortable, and the room was serene, I still could not fall asleep. As tired as I'd felt before we went to bed, I could not fall asleep even when I was all snuggled up.

The room was rather dark except for the occasional pair of headlights washing over the wall of doors. Even the moon was asleep that night. The only other source of light was that of the bathroom.

"Who left that on?" I asked no one out loud. I stood up and traversed Sam's room to the bathroom. The switch was near the window in the small bathroom. I flipped it to the off position, and climbed back into my comfy spot on the futon. After I had made myself comfortable, and the room was completely serene, I still could not fall asleep, as tired as I was earlier.

As the minutes went by, I grew more and more tired, and eventually, I did fall asleep. When I did, I had a dream, which was too blurry to decipher the next morning.

-Saturday, August 1st 2000-

I woke up at about seven in the morning to Sam sitting on his bed with his legs pulled up against his chest.

"You died last night..." He droned. He looked to be very out of it.

"Wha-what are you talking about?" I scratched my head and yawned. "I did not, Sam!"

"He...he killed you last night," Sam continued speaking in a dry tone. "He slit your throat!"

"Stop it Sam!" I snapped. "I'm really not in the mood!"

"Then he came after...me!" He continued. "Then...everything disappeared!"

"I'm gonna go home if you don't stop. I’m not in the mood Sam!"

"Why are you being like this?" Sam asked. "He showed up last night!"

"Maybe I should go home..." I said. With that, I began packing up my things.

"No, I don't want you to go home!" Sam pleaded.

"You're still tired, and so am I," I explained. "I need to rest up for work anyway." I pulled out my cell phone, and called my Mom. "Mom," I said.

"Yes, Honey?"

"Could you come and pick me up?" I asked.

"Yeah," she replied. "In fact, I'm about five minutes from there. I'll be there in a few minutes. Goodbye. I love you!"

"I love you too mom!" I hung up the phone and looked at Sam. “She’s on her way.”

Sam sat down on the bed and sighed. As soon as I finished packing, I sat down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. A few minutes later, the doorbell rang. I stood up, stretched and then walked downstairs. As I did, Sam followed me down the stairs to see me out. I stopped at the door and looked at Sam. “Well, I’ll see you later, Sam. You get some rest. You need that arm to get better, don’t you?”

Sam gave me a look of hatred and just gave me a stiff wave and walked away.

I hope he’ll be alright. He’s acting really weird!

My mom’s van was waiting in the driveway. She waved her arm out the open window. I waved and then climbed inside. She backed out of the slanted driveway and drove home.

When we arrived, I got out and grabbed myself and rushed to the front door, trying to avoid my mom’s interference.

“Matt?” She called.

Crap!

“Why did you want to be picked up so early?”

“Sam’s mom said I needed to. They have things to take care of.” I lied through my teeth, because it was the only thing I could do to keep her off my back. If she suspected conflict between Sam and I then she would jump on it like a dog on a steak freshly dropped from a flaming grill.

“Oh, ok. Well are you going to take a nap before work?”

“Yeah, but first, I’m gonna get something to eat.” I replied.

“Ok, clean up your mess then.” She wagged her index finger at me.

I turned my attention to the front door when Mom stopped me again. “Oh, and tell your dad, that I’m running a few errands and I’ll be back in an hour or so!” She turned around and made her way to the van.

“Okay!” I called.

She waved and then drove off. I waved and then walked through the door and then dropped my red bag. It made a soft thud as it hit the hardwood floor.

“Dad!” I called.

“Yeah, Matt!” He was in the kitchen making some sandwiches.

“Mom went to run some errands; she’ll be back in a while.”

“Okay.” he replied. “You want a sandwich?”

“Yeah. Bologna and potato chips if we have it, please.”

“Coming right up!” He stuck his hand in the plastic bag covered with big colorful dots and came out with eight slices of bread. “So, why are you home so early?”

“Sam had things to do,” I replied.

“Oh.” He squeezed some mustard on the sandwiches, then the bologna and the topper, the chips. He handed me my plate, and I thanked him.

“No problem.” He replied.

I walked into the den and sat down on the leather couch with my lunch. The TV was already on and flipped to some western. John Wayne was talking to a woman about his age and trying to get her to accompany him on a horse and buggy ride. I took a bite out of the sandwich and a small chip freed itself and fell onto the plate, not knowing that I would grab it and stick it back on my sandwich.

“So, it seems like something’s bothering you Matt.” Paul Reven said. He walked into the den with his plate and two Cokes. He sat down in the chair next to me and handed me one of the Cokes.

“Well…” I hesitated to tell him what happened.

“You know you can tell your father.”

“Yeah,” I said.

“Okay! Out with it then!” He beckoned to me with both hands.

“Well, Sam’s been acting really weird lately.”

“How so?”

“Ever since he broke his arm, he hasn’t been his normal laid-back self. He’s been real uptight, and nervous. He keeps talking about strange things.” I took a large bite out of my sandwich.

“Like what?”

“He told me on the phone yesterday that his lasagna talked to him.”

“Hmm…that’s strange.” He had a thoughtful expression on his face, and then he scratched his chin and took a swig of his Coke. “Do you think that maybe he was just trying to be funny?”

“Oh no!” I said “He was totally serious and took offense when I didn’t believe him!” I drank some of my almost empty can.

“Well, what else did he say?”

“He told me this morning that I was killed. That I had a huge gash in my neck. Some guy in a hood killed me and he was gonna kill Sam.”

“Well, he was probably dreaming…” Paul replied.

“See, that’s the thing. He claimed to have woken up from a dream about the creature before that incident.”

“Well, that’s strange, but it really makes no sense otherwise; he had to have dreamt the whole thing.”

“I guess…” I sighed. “I’m just really worried about him.”

“I know you are, but he’ll be fine. He’s probably just still upset about his arm. It is his first time breaking an arm. It may have been pretty traumatic for him.” Paul put his arm around me, but only for a moment, then it came down.

Dad and I sat in silence, save for the sound of Wayne and his lady friend speaking softly in the background. We finished our lunch and then took care of our dishes and trash.

“Well, I’ve gotta head back off to work.” Paul said. He coughed in to his hand. “I’ve got an appointment with a patient in about thirty minutes!” He adjusted his tie and headed for the door.

“Okay, Dad.” I followed him.

“So when do you work today?” He asked.

“In about two hours and…” I looked at the clock above the couch in the family room. “…forty minutes.”

“Alright, well have fun!”

I laughed sarcastically.

“See you tonight Matt.”

“Okay,” I said. “See ya.”

My dad left the entry hall and entered the outside world. He walked down the curvy sidewalk leading the vehicle he used to drive to and from every place imaginable. He got inside and pulled out of the driveway, patient-bound!

I went up to my room and jumped into bed. I reached over and set my alarm to one o’clock, so that I could get a good hour nap in before entering the stressful environment that is work. The clock double beeped when I had correctly pushed the buttons. I sunk into the covers and clapped my hands. The light switched off and I drifted off to sleep.

I walked downstairs to the art room. It was very dark and smelled of burning wood for some unknown reason. I flicked the light switch on and walked over to a blank canvas. Cold lingered in the air until I arrived to the front of the canvas. The air thickened with warmth. I began to sweat.

I picked up a paintbrush and dipped it in some paint. The paint was black as coal. It was dreary, but somewhat delightful at the same time. Drops of it fell to the ground. They splattered all over my whit clothing. I had blotches of this paint on my shoes, shirt and pants. I touched the brush to the canvas. The color spread from that one spot on the canvas. It grew and grew. When it filled the space, the canvas itself, grew, until it filled the room! There was white on the canvas; it surrounded a humanoid shape that was black. It looked like that hooded figure that Sam had described. The words, The Horrible Evil painted themselves on the top of the painting. They bled down into the figure. It peeled away from the canvas and rushed at immense speeds, but at the same time, so slowly at me, giving me the opportunity to see a symbol on the front of his cloak. It was a blue circle with a white dot in the middle.

It went through my body, causing me to fall over. He took the wind out of me as I fell.

I sat up quickly, panting. Sweat poured down my face. I sat there for a few moments trying to process my dream. Trying to figure out what it meant. Could this be the guy Sam was talking about? Wait! There was something about him he had some sort of something on the front of his cloak. Oh…I can’t remember!

I jumped out of bed a minute later and rushed down to the art room. I was relieved when I saw my full canvas that I had painted on the day before. I reached out and touched the rough surface of the painting. I felt at peace for moment. My paintings seemed to do that for me. I can’t explain why, but with art, you never really need an explanation. It’s just there and all you need to comprehend and enjoy is an open mind and an imagination.

I went up the stairs and looked at the clock.

“Oh crap! I only have forty minutes to get ready!” I grabbed all clothes necessary for work out of my closet, and then traveled down to the bathroom for a quick hose-off. Afterward, I got dressed and accomplished the other objectives.

I work at Hy-vee, the best place in the world to work. No, not really, but it’s money, and right now, that’s all that matters.

I pulled on a pair of sand-colored slacks and buttoned the faded blue button and zipped up the zipper. I put my arms through the sleeves of a white Oxford button up and connected all the buttons, and unbuttoned the collar buttons. I did this, because if not unbuttoned, putting on a tie would be impossible. I grabbed my red tie from the bathroom and put it on. The three-button rule. Skinny side on your right, make an X…

My dad taught me this technique my first day of work, almost two years ago.

Sam was normal then.

Dammit! I can’t stop worrying about Sam!

I put my nametag on and then my belt and then headed downstairs. I had about twenty minutes to sit and relax. So I did. I watched the ending to that John Wayne movie. It was rather good. I turned the TV off and grabbed the keys to my car off the little hook sticking out of the way in the entry hall. I walked out the door, and walked to the car. I got inside and closed the door. I put the key in the ignition, turned it and carefully pulled out, avoiding any cars or other obstacles that were blocking my path. Down the street, I went.

I was on my side of the road when all of a sudden an idiot decided he’d have fun being on my side as well. He swerved out of the way just in time. I went right a little and honked my horn; he sped off, and sped around the corner at blinding speeds. I shook my head and continued.

The parking lot was packed

, at least in the customer parking. I picked a vacant spot in the employee parking and parked there. I turned off the car and put the key in my pocket. I stepped out and walked toward the mouth into insanity; it took me in and after the push of a few buttons, the shift from Hell had begun.

I checked the schedule for the next week, and then I went down the blue steps to my station. Rhonda greeted me with a smile.

“Hey, Matt! How are you?”

“Oh, okay. I’m just a little upset. Having problems with a friend.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. You wanna talk about it later?”

“Yeah, sure,” I replied. “Thanks.”

“For now though, there’s a pretty big order behind you.”

“Alright, thanks.” I replied. I turned around and asked the woman if plastic was fine. She consented, so I began sacking. Several more orders went through before I started thinking about Sam again. I decided that I would call him after work. I needed to try to straighten things out.

But for now, sacking galore!

Seconds built upon seconds, and minutes built upon minutes, and finally, the line came to a sudden halt, when the cashier I was sacking for blocked the line off with a rack full of candy. Oh how that candy rack made my day. It had been almost three hours since I had started work today, so I walked away from the numerous plastic sacks and up to the nearest manager. Rhonda was standing in front of the employee’s entrance to Bank of the West, watching all the employees in front of her fulfilling their duties as employees.

“Hey Rhonda.” I said. “Can I go on break?”

She turned and looked at me. “Yeah, go ahead.” She replied.

“Thanks.”

I rushed off to the restaurant at the other side of the store and bought a cheeseburger and fries. When the food came out, I handed him the money I owed and he handed the Styrofoam box to me and a plastic cup. I went to fill it up and then went up the stairs to the break room. All three of the white tables inside were littered with half eaten plates of food, used napkins, and spilled condiments. I pushed some of that junk out of the way and set my meal down. Some crumpled newspapers were sitting across from me next to the napkin dispenser. I grabbed a piece and read it. The article I read was about phones and their memory. The memory is almost impossible to completely erase. I found that rather interesting.

Rhonda walked in with a ceramic plate overflowing with a large piece of steaming pepperoni pizza. In the other hand, she held a cup of Sprite with no ice. Some brown hair was hanging out of her ponytail. She set her plate and drink down and immediately fixed it.

“Oh gosh, what a day!” She sighed. “Being a manager is nice, but the long hours are killer! I’ve still got another three hours ahead of me!”

“Yeah…” I stuffed a fry into my mouth and chewed.

“So did you still want to talk about what’s going on with Sam?“

“Yeah.” Sam has been acting really strange. He broke his arm yesterday, and ever since that, he hasn’t been himself.” I explained.

“Like, how so?” She asked.

“He said something about a figure, all in black with a sword in his back. He said it killed me.”

“That’s weird.” She looked worried so she turned away.

“What worries me now, is that I have seen what I think he’s referring to.” I said. I had a solemn expression on my face.

“You have?” Her eyes were the size of beach balls and she looked like a cat would when he was preparing to pounce on a mouse.

“Why are you so surprised?” I asked.

“Hmm…I don’t know.” She nervously took a bite out of her pizza.

“I had a dream before I came to work today.” I sipped my Coke and continued. “I walked into the dark art room that was downstairs. I turned on the light and made my way to a canvas. I painted with some black paint and it spread on its own, and when it did the canvas grew with it. It was very cold and then it grew very hot at that point. The words: The Horrible Evil appeared on the picture and dripped down. The Horrible Evil emerged from the black abyss and flew through me, knocking me to the floor.

I came to after that. It was a very bleak and dark dream, and I honestly do not know what to make of it…”

Shimmering beads of sweat began to form on Rhonda’s forehead. She shot up and went to the sink.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yes.” Her voice was a bit quieter through the sound of the running water. She turned the water off, grabbed a few paper towels and then sat back down. “I’m sorry; I just feel really weird. I keep getting these weird feelings. Now that you bring up your issues, I just have that feeling that I know what you’re talking about, and even stranger ones that I’m supposed to do something about it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Honestly, I have no fucking idea!” She laughed hysterically, and then stopped so suddenly. “Do you know of a woman named Rebecca Julian?”

“No, why?”

“I do. I know everything about her. Her birth date, her mother’s maiden name, her social security number, her favorite fucking color, for God’s sake!” She listed on her fingers, all of these things.

“Why do you know so much about her? Is she your friend?” I asked

“No. I’ve never met her in my life. In fact, I’ve never known a Rebecca, ever.

“That’s strange…” I took a bite and slowly chewed, trying to comprehend what Rhonda had said. I tried to find a correlation, but I found no such thing. “Is there anything you like to do that can block out some of that stress?” I asked. I took the last bit out of my burger and chewed it slowly, but I wish I hadn’t taken that bite. I was feeling bloated.

“Other than writing, I’d have to say my job is my biggest stress reliever, however it is sometimes my biggest source of stress!” She looked up at a flickering fluorescent that had just begun its journey to being obsolete.

“What do you like to write?” I was intrigued. I like reading, so this could work.

“I write a lot of poetry.” She replied.

I picked up the last two fries on the plate, between my thumb and index finger and dunked them into ketchup.

“So what do you do?” She asked. She seemed a little more relaxed now.

“I paint.” I replied. “In fact, I painted something yesterday.”

“I really think that’s awesome. Anybody who can paint or draw is very talented.” Rhonda said.

I looked over at the clock and decided it was time to go to back to work. I stood up and put my box in the trash along with my cup. Neither Rhonda nor me said a single word but goodbye.

I headed down the stairs and back to the sacker’s realm.

At seven, I waved to Rhonda and went upstairs to clock out. She waved and then I pressed a few buttons and then left. I walked around a lady who was blocking the portal to the outside world. The air was rather dry and warm. My lips instantly shriveled and fell to the asphalt. I walked to the car, got in and drove away.

When I got home, I stepped out and was greeted by a plate of leftovers from that night’s dinner. A couple of chicken legs covered in bar-b-que sauce, golden corn, and a pile of chunky, buttery smashed potatoes. Rachael Ray would be riveted.

“Thanks Mom!” I said, grabbing the plate and rushing off into the kitchen to get a drink. I poured myself a huge glass of milk, and plopped down in the recliner.

“How was work?” Dad asked.

“Oh, it was okay.” I let out a quick and relieved sigh.

“What happened tonight?” Mom asked. She asked a lot of questions, almost to the point of irritation sometimes.

“Oh, tonight, I sacked. That’s the main part of my job as a courtesy of a clerk.” I explained.

“Anything else?”

“I talked to my manager.” I reluctantly let that slip.

“Oh? What about?”

“Well, I just told her about Sam. She seemed a little bit distracted by her own problems, but I had this dream during my nap. I was in the art room. A blank canvas was in front of me and I painted on it with black paint. The second I touched the canvas, the paint spread. The words: The Horrible Evil inscribed themselves on. A figure was on the canvas and flew out and I passed out, then woke up.”

“That’s strange, but what does that have to do with Sam?” She asked.

“Well, Sam dreamt about that figure too, and he said he actually saw it, and it killed me. Obviously it didn’t kill me, but you know what I mean.”

“Yeah. Hmm…” She sighed.

“I think that dream is trying to tell me something, but I don’t know what…”

“Well, dreams can mean a lot of different things.” Dad said. “They can reflect your daily life, and can in many different ways.”

“Hmm…” I said. I cut off a piece of my leg and dipped it into the potatoes and into my mouth for the first step of the digestion process.

“Maybe it has something to do with…hmm…maybe you’re dissatisfied with your painting, or maybe less literally; you are dissatisfied with your life. Along those lines,” he theorized.

“Sounds like that could be it…” I said. I sighed and finished the last of my food.

Neither my parents or I, said a word after my reply for a good long time, because we were too busy watching Saturday Night Live. After an hour or so, Jared came in. He held our cat in his arms. Jared sat down in the chair next to me and positioned Midnight on his lap and patted his curved back.

“Hi Matt!” He said.

“Hey, Jare!” I replied.

After a few minutes of this entrapment, ‘night was getting angry and uncomfortable, so he decided to fly the cop. While Jared had his guard down, ‘night leaped down to the tan carpet and darted out of the room.

“Aww!” Jared whined, but he quickly got over it and walked to the doorway and stopped and turned away. “I want to watch a movie!” He yawned.

“Jared, you need to go get ready for bed.” My mom told him. “After you do, you can stay up for an hour and watch TV.”

“Okay.” He headed upstairs and supposedly began doing so.

Oh, crap! I need to call Sam!

“I’m going to call Sam, and see how he’s doing.” I announced.

My parents responded, and then I went up to my room. My phone was a white cube on my nightstand. It looked like an oversized ice cube that could play MP3’s. I pressed a button that took me into a menu that held all the already inputted numbers and looked for Sam. His name was last, because it was in alphabetical order by first name. I pressed that button a second time, and it automatically began dialing. Several seconds later, Sam answered.

“Hello?” He said.

“Hey, Sam. It’s Matt.” I said.

“Oh, hey.”

“I figured I should call you, and I have some interesting news.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, you know that figure that you saw?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I had a dream before work today during my nap. Now the dream itself isn’t important. It’s the fact that The Horrible Evil was in it.”

“Yeah, right.” Sam grumbled. “You’re just trying to make me feel worse than I already do!”

“No, no. I am completely serious!” I pleaded. “He was cloaked in darkness with a sword hanging from his back. Is that proof enough for you?”

“…” Sam sighed. “Yeah, that’s him…”

“I don’t know what to do about this. The odds of two people having dreams that involve one same person aren’t too high, so this is weird.

“It’s probably just some weird coincidence,” Sam said.

“Maybe…” I sighed.

“Well, I gotta go. My mom is calling me. Thanks for calling. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay. Bye.”

“See you later.”

I pressed the talk button and a clicking sound occurred, ensuring that I actually hung up.

It was a little before eleven when my eyelids began to weigh more than they should. I didn’t want to go to bed, because I didn’t want to have that dream again. I knew I couldn’t stay awake for the rest of my life, but I also didn’t want to go, because I wanted to stay up longer, but I slowly drooped down to laying on my stomach on the bed. I lay there staring straight ahead at nothing until I closed my eyes and left them closed…for countless hours. Well, I didn’t know how long I was asleep for, but I woke up when the sun was high in the clouds.

-Sunday, August 2nd 2000-

I looked at my clock and it said 2:34, but the second hand wasn’t moving so I discontinued my trust with Homer J.

I looked at the clock on my ice cube, which took effort. My room had a pretty dreary feel to it because of the stupid excuse for a light bulb that hangs above my head every day on occasion. I climbed closer and saw that it was really 11:03.

Not too bad.

I don’t like sleeping much later than eleven, so I felt good about my accomplishment.

I got up and “fixed my eyelashes” as I call it. They always bother me. It seems I pull a dozen out of each eye every day. I stood up and headed to the bathroom to take a shower, and then down to the kitchen for a bit of food. There wasn’t much to choose from, considering my Mom hadn’t gone to the store in about two weeks.

But I managed.

My life for the next couple of weeks was rather boring, except for work and preparation for school. Mom always had Jare and I getting haircuts and school supplies, and all that at least a couple of weeks before school started.

There were two things that upset me though between the Friday that Sam broke his arm, and the first day of senior year. The first happened just ten days after his injury. Sam began receiving therapy from my Dad.

I’m guessing about Evil. It obviously drove him a bit mad. I hope he’ll be fine. I had thought.

-Thursday, August 20th 2000-

“So, what’s the matter with Sam?” I asked my Dad as he was getting ready for his appointment with my friend.

“There are a lot of things going on with Sam, but too many and too complicated to explain and analyze in a few minutes. Basically, he is suffering from major depression, and he seems to be having some issue with hallucinations. I think he might be slightly schizophrenic, which is possible. This is the time to acquire this disorder. Although, it usually won’t just pop up like this.”

I stood there leaning against the kitchen table. I was so upset about this whole thing, and it was affecting my attitude. My parents were starting to worry about me, a little. I was usually a very happy and easy-to-get-along-with guy, but it’s changed since all this drama.

Dad looked at his watch. “Oh! I’ve got to go!”

“See ya.”

“Bye, Matt.”

I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a granola bar. I peeled back the silver wrapper and began gnawing at the chocolate chip-laced chunk of granola. It provided just the boost I needed, for such a little bit of food.

I threw my trash away and went up to my room for some time alone…with my thoughts…

…Sam is having serious mental problems, and there’s nothing you can do about it…

NO! There has got to be something! ANYTHING AT ALL! This guy is taking over his mind and body, and all I can do is sit here and watch Sam be devoured from the inside out…he needs more help than my Dad can provide. What kind of hallucinations is he having? I don’t want to know, but I do want to know when they are going to stop. Hopefully…soon…I wa…want my fr…friend back…

I was walking with four people across a grassy meadow. They were shrouded in darkness, but somehow, I knew that they were good people. They were there to help. We walked in a jagged line. I was in the middle, walking with my comrades, heading to the end of the field, which, in my heart, I knew led to danger and uncertainty. I knew that if I could survive the danger, then it would be worth it.

Rain fell over the lush, and our heads. It didn’t matter to us. We had bigger things to worry about.

When I awoke on the 21st of August, the house was in chaos. My mom burst into my room, with tears in her eyes, very frantic.

“Matt! Matt! Wake up!”

“Mom, mom! Calm down, what’s the matter?” I rubbed my eyes.

“It’s Sam…he’s dead!”

That fell on me like a ton of bricks. Hard and unbearably painful. My hands dropped from my eyes to my lap. I stared straight ahead at my Mom who was looking back at me, ready for however I reacted. I took a second to comprehend, and then my eyes filled with anger. I shot up and fumed. “How could this happen?! Sam was not supposed to die. Why would he leave me here?! What did I ever do to him?” I began to breath deeply, in and out. I paused for another moment. “You know what?” Tears began to pus themselves out. “Screw ‘em! Screw him!” I clamped myself around my Mom who sat there listening to my venting. She received it, and continued to cry along with me.

Throughout the day, I learned more and more about Sam’s death. Basically, his brain just shut off. No symptoms prior, just brain on, brain off. What was left of his brain, anyway. They did an autopsy, and found that about eighty percent of his brain matter had been eaten away. The remainder was a black shriveled prune. The doctor’s had a fun day figuring that one out.

And speaking of doctors, I asked about a Dr. Sheenic, and the hospital had never heard of a Dr. Sheenic. Not a one on the staff. Very strange if you ask me. I don’t know who or what The Horrible Evil is, but I am going to find him, and get him.

Sam’s funeral was on Monday, August 24th, the first day of my senior year. Mom called in and said I was sick, and in a way, I was. It took me a long time to get over Sam’s death. Two suicide attempts to be exact. Of course, to be honest, I never did. No one ever gets over his or her lost ones. If they did, then they wouldn’t have a reason to exist.

Everyone needs to have someone that they can care for, and someone to care for them, or living would be a waste of time.

I volunteered to speak at Sam’s funeral, and it felt really good to do that. I felt that I owed him that, of a few things I owe him. I wrote a note just for Sam that I didn’t read aloud. I read it to myself before I nestled it next to his head.

Sam,

I know what happened, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it, for your sake. Thanks for being such a good friend…

Your friend,

Matt

“So, when the coroners removed he cast, the arm was completely healed. There wasn’t even the need for a brace.” Cindy said. Her cheeks were stained with the seemingly endless waterfall of tears. The waterworks were shut off for the moment. They would be reopened later in time. I was sure of that.

“That’s strange.” I murmured. “It only took that little amount of time to heal? Usually it’s about six weeks until a brace should b worn for a couple. Even then, the arm wouldn’t be completely healed. It could take another couple months to mend back to normal, but no support is needed for that.”

“Well, that’s what the doctor said.

“What did he look like? What’s his name?”

“His name is Dr. Sheenic. He was tall, short brown hair. He, you know looked like a doctor. There was a sticker on his name card. It was a blue circle, with a white dot in the middle. Must have looked cool to him.” Cindy explained.

My eyes lit up with both fear and excitement, while I was still very sad about Sam. “Oh my God!”

“What?” She asked. “What’s the matter?”

“That’s the one part of my dream I couldn’t remember!”

“What? I’m in the dark here!”

“That symbol…it’s the same one that was on The Horrible Evil in my dream. Sam’s too, I’m guessing.”

“What?” She demanded. “You mean…?”

“Yes. Sheenic is Evil!! I don’t understand how such a being got here, and why he took Sam, but I will figure it out. I will make that promise!”

“Matt!” Mom called. She was about a couple yards away.

“Oh, I have to go. Again, I am so sorry, for your loss.”

“I am sorry for yours too, Matt.” Cindy began to cry again. She stepped closer to me and initiated a hug. I reached out and hugged back. Before I walked off, I gave her a reassuring look. She knew I was serious about my finding Evil and taking care of him for good. I’d go to the ends of the Earth to at least figure out why Evil did this.

I climbed into the van next to Jared, who was in the middle seating, watching the cars leave. Dad put the car in reverse, and pulled out. He was on the highway in a matter of minutes, and was going about sixty-five miles and hour. The average speed on the high way. There was a car right behind us. It was swerving back and forth significantly. Someone was intoxicated in that car. There was a semi immediately in font of us. Dad tried to switch lanes to let the drunken guy pass us, so we weren’t in danger, but before he got the chance, the semi slowed significantly, at a rapid pace, too fast for us to react. The semi swerved left an account of the sudden breakage. We plowed in to the left side of the behemoth, and Jared…he flew out of his seat and through the windshield. It was slow motion to me. His rag doll body flying through the air. His clothes were waving in the wind a she traveled. His head knocked Dad out, and his feet hit my mom but only administered a broken jaw for Mom. His head hit the shield pointblank, on the top. His skull concaved slightly as he crashed through. Blood splattered on the surrounding glass. The glass cut his clothes, and his skin underneath. He was a human pincushion or glass cushion. His lifeless body slammed into the semi, and there was a blood mark left behind. He crumpled to the ground.

All who were conscious, my Mom and looked in complete shock. Mom fainted in her seat. I tried to move, and was lucky to come out of the crash with a bruise where the seatbelt fell on my body and a small gash left on my neck. It was bleeding only a little. My brother didn’t get to just suffer a bruise. He wasn’t wearing his. I got out of the car. People were beginning to form a circle around us. The semi stopped that whole three-lane section. I stumbled to my fallen brother. A woman, walked over to me, very worried.

“Matt, are you okay?!” She cried.

I looked her direction. “Rhonda…” I coughed. “Yeah, I’m fine, but my brother…”

“Oh, no!” She gasped and covered her mouth.

We walked together to Jared.

People went to check on my parents, but they were the least of my worries, for the moment.

I bent down next to him and turned him over. I knew he was gone. His pulse was gone. His beat fell down to nothing. I looked him over. His smartness leaked out of his ears. It was too much. I turned away. Rhonda crouched next to me and I turned to her and cried into her shoulder.

People’s shadows enveloped us and it began to rain. A heavy rain washed the blood away from the scene, as the authorities arrived.