Brandon's Curse | Teen Ink

Brandon's Curse

April 5, 2015
By ZumbaMaster, Monticello, Wisconsin
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ZumbaMaster, Monticello, Wisconsin
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Favorite Quote:
“Those who dream by night, in the duty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that all was vanity; but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dream with open eyes and make it possible.”
T.E. Lawrence
Roseanne - Season 9, Episode 24


Author's note:

Stephen King inspired me to go into writing this novel.

School was almost over. Brandon Hilgarde sat in History class, waiting for the stupid bell to ring. He wanted to get home and get his work at home done and over with, so he could catch up with matters that included the five-lettered word “sleep”.

            When it came down to being compared with other kids in his class, Brandon was different. Even though he had a 4.0 GPA, a girlfriend, friends, and a family, he wasn’t really sure why people liked him in school. Was it that he was smart and people were just using him like a crumpled piece of trash? Brandon knew that something was weird about the school he went to, Little Hill Schools. In Little Hill Schools, no one really tried or gave a living crap what happened in academics or anything else for that matter. With only eight hundred fifty seven children out of the one thousand three hundred twenty six people in the town of Little Hill, the only thing these children would do was use Brandon for their own selfish needs. Not only was he the only red-haired person in the entire village and the only one with a 4.0 GPA, he also had a high imagination and intelligence perspectives of how to live in life and how life even worked, or at least thought about it.

“Brandon”, Mr. Nozzleburg called, “When did Christopher Columbus sail to find the East Indies?”

            “August of 1492”, Brandon said in confidence.

            Mr. Nozzleburg was surprised to hear the actual month that Columbus had sailed. He was a brown-haired, except for an obvious bald spot, and blue-eyed man with tiny glasses, so he could peek and practically scare each person he would call on. When he would call on you, he would stare at you with those annoying blue eyes, until you had an answer. If you didn’t have an answer or just said something sarcastically to drive the man nuts, he would scream at you like a pregnant bat out of hell!

            The bell rang and Brandon left quickly. He had to get home before Fred Battles caught him leaving the school grounds. Brandon walked out of the school and started home, heading along a sidewalk that seemed to go on for a long time. He passed some cedar bushes and had heard a noise, but ignored it, thinking it was simply the wind making that racket. Just then, Brandon felt something pushed him into the dark green bushes. Brandon felt the sharp, needle-like bristles scratch the outside of his skin, making him bleed. Brandon immediately looked up to see who was disturbing the walk home he was on. It was Fred. Along with the pain of the cedar bushes, Brandon felt the beating fist of Fred, crushing against his side. Fred was a brown-haired jerk that would do anything to make him look like a cool, macho man in front of everyone in Little Hill. The pain was intense and Brandon knew that these injuries would be even worse the following day, which of course Brandon was used to. His life was full of abusive relationships, but he knew that things had to get better eventually get better, whether he died or somehow manage to live in a land of happiness.

            As Fred walked away from the cedar bushes, he had yelled meanly, “You’re a worthless, weak loser! No one likes you!”

The impact of the fall and the bloody wounds had eventually driven Brandon into the life of unconsciousness and blackness surrounded his body as he heard the laughter of Fred Battles fading slowly until there was nothing.

Brandon awoke and tried to get up and once again attempt to get home, but the pain was so intense that he couldn’t. The pounding of his heart did not stop nor did the bleeding of both of his legs.  He practically crawled on his hands and knees to his house on Tree View Avenue, which had been seven blocks from his encounter with Fred. It was a quiet neighborhood on the better side of town, which didn’t make a difference. Even in Little Hill, there were people that belonged in gangs and would beat people for their belongings, especially money.

Although things were sort of weird in Little Hill, Brandon had a middle class family with a blue house on the corner of Tree View Avenue and Orchard Street. His mother, although, died a few years back and was a depressing time for Brandon. He was now stuck doing all of the chores for his father, which was like a nightmare. The dishes had to be done every day, since Brandon’s father didn’t want to do them himself. Brandon also has to do his laundry and his father’s every Tuesday, vacuum the floor every Monday, take out the trash every Wednesday morning, mow the lawn on Thursdays, and Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays were days to do all the other stupid chores that had little meaning to Brandon and he hardly did them, since his dad went out on the weekends and he would always say that he did them, even if he didn’t even do them.

Brandon finally approached the front porch of the house cautiously, for he had a very mean father, and did not want to be screamed at today, The father he had was not even his own. His true family had adopted him years ago from a town far away called Bristle… rock, boulder, or pebble. Brandon couldn’t remember which one it was exactly. There was no contact between the two families nor was there any contact whatsoever. He was revealed of this when his father told him two years ago, during a fight they have had. Even his father’s name was unknown to Brandon, so he just called him “sir” and left it at that. Even if anyone asked what his dad’s name was, he would say “sir”.

Brandon’s mom’s name was Sherrie. Sherrie was a kindhearted person, who was a successful business person with a lot of experience with people and had the power to get to know people and seek their problems. Brandon’s only friend, honestly, was Sherrie. She could always help him out with his troubles, even if the results would be painful for her. Even though Sherrie wasn’t his real mother, Brandon still loved her. When Sherrie Hilgarde died on the day after his eighth birthday, Brandon was heartbroken and his father did not get any better then. What he did was indescribable to Brandon, for he and his father had an abusive relationship that lasted for years and is still going on now as a sixteen year old.

            As he walked inside the door shut behind him with a loud slam, since it was a very windy day, but Brandon ignored it as he walked into the living room to see the noticeable, shiny, black belt that hung above the fireplace. Nobody seemed to be home, judging from the quietness that surrounded the walls of the Hilgarde residence, so he hurried past the warmth of the fireplace in the living room, up the stairs that gave a squeaking noise every time you even took a step, moved ahead to the skinny hallway with many doors choose from, turned at the second door to the right to his room, opened it, and went inside, shutting the door behind him. Brandon set his stuff down, backpack and all, and immediately went downstairs to the kitchen to wash the dishes. There were a few rules when doing the dishes: no water spots, no food on the dishes, no usage of any other type of soap besides Dawn, everything must be put away in the correct order, and especially no breaking the dishes.

For Brandon, doing dishes was the easy part, but the hard part was the criticizing of his father when he did his inspection of the kitchen every Tuesday to make sure he did everything correctly. Most of the time, he did very well, but when he didn’t he would get the belt, a bigger part of Brandon’s life than anyone would care to believe. It was one of his biggest fears and will continue to be until he would die. These thoughts went through Brandon’s head as he washed each dish with lots of soap and water until they were so spotless that Brandon’s hands were numb after. Now the drying was the difficult part. Brandon had to make sure that he didn’t miss any wetness of the dishes with the dishtowel he had, or else two things would happen: there would be spots that would appear and he would get the belt from his father when he got home. When Brandon was finally done with the dishes, he went up to do his math homework. He sat down, got out his pencil, eraser, calculator, and his brain in gear, and got started right away.

            “The square root of sixty four is eight… The square root of eighty one is nine… The square root of 100 is ten…” Brandon thought to himself. He had to get the square root of 256. He believed it was either sixteen or seventeen, but he was just double checking his square roots to make sure which was which.

            “121…eleven, 144…twelve, 169…thirteen, 196… fourteen, 225… fifteen”, Brandon thought on to get the correct answer. He went on with is square roots.

            “So sixteen squared must be… 256”, thought Brandon, as he wrote the answer to the problem. He had just written the six in 256 when Brandon heard the slamming of the front door. His father was home.

Brandon quickly got off of his bed, put his finished homework away in his backpack, threw the backpack in his closet, and sat back down on his bed as heard the squeaks of the footsteps of his father. As Brandon took a deep breath to calm his nerves, there was a knock on his bedroom door. The door opened slowly to reveal a man of six feet, dark brown hair, and brown eyes that seemed to change red whenever he grew angry at anyone. He stepped inside Brandon’s bedroom and the image of dirty clothes that smelt like oil came to Brandon’s mind. It was obvious why he has smelt like that because Brandon’s father was a construction worker and construction workers usually were dirty and downright stinky when they got home from work.

            “Are the dishes done?” Brandon’s father had said to him in his low, creepy voice.

            “Yes sir. I have gotten them done about an hour ago now”, Brandon had said timidly, but with enduring confidence.

            “Good. Then you can make supper for me”, Brandon’s father said once again in his low voice, “Whatever you want to make is fine, but if it isn’t done within thirty minutes, then… well you know the consequences”.

            “Yes sir. I do”.

            “Well then, get to it. I’m hungry as it is”.

            “Yes sir”. Brandon’s father had left the room before Brandon did, but he would soon follow to go to the kitchen to make supper.

            “Yes sir this. Yes sir that. Yes sir. Yes sir. Yes sir. Ugh!!!” thought Brandon as he went down the stairs, which squeaked loudly as ever. Brandon’s dad had looked at him with a death stare when he got all the way down the stairs that meant to get to the kitchen now before he got the belt. So, he did just that, without a word to say with neither his mouth nor his body language. He had kept his head down low and started on some macaroni and cheese found in the cupboard to the left of the refrigerator and to the right of the microwave and coffee machine. This cupboard was where Brandon had put the “pantry foods” in. Brandon started to boil the water in the black pot that was kept in the cupboard to the right of the stove and on the bottom shelf. He also grabbed a strainer from the same area, just a shelf above the pots and pans. Once the water was at the appropriate temperature of 212 degrees Fahrenheit, he put the macaroni in the pot and set the timer for ten minutes. As the food was cooking, Brandon started converting 212 degrees Fahrenheit into degrees Celsius.

            “Let’s see. Start with 212 and subtract thirty two. That equals… 180. Then divide 180 by one point eight. That would make that temperature 100 degrees Celsius. Then simply add 273 to get 373 Kelvin”, Brandon thought. He was impressed with his mathematics skills and how he could come up with numbers with a snap of two fingers. Brandon looked to see how much time was left on the stove. There was seven minutes left. What could he do in seven minutes? Certainly not go back to his room. The stupid stairs would give away Brandon’s location. So, he decided to just sit there and think about sleep and how he wanted it so bad, but he knew he still had to do laundry. There was now four minutes left on the timer.

            Brandon walked quietly, yet rapidly to the living room to see that his father was asleep and looked at his laundry basket. He grabbed it and set it next to the washer across the kitchen. In Little Hill, there was no such thing as basements. The ground was too sloppy and wet for any type of basement. Brandon opened the washer slowly and quickly put in the clothes, detergent that was bought last week, and the fabric softener. That was another thing Brandon hated. He would have to walk to get groceries whenever his father told him to do so. To Brandon, it was ridiculous. Even if it was storming outside, he would have to go outside and go to the store, which was four blocks away and buy them himself.

            BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. Brandon went over to shut the stove off, put the strainer in the sink, and poured the boiling water with the noodles into the strainer, and shook the strainer, so all the water would leave the strainer. Then he put the noodles back into the pot, mixed milk, cheese powder, and butter into the pot, and sprinkled some salt and pepper on it to give it some flavor. The plates, with forks, were set on the counter, so he and his father could dish up. Brandon did forget one thing. The laundry! He ran over to start it when he bumped into his father. Brandon gave a terrified scream.

            “Why in Sam Hell are you screaming like that?” Brandon’s father had said.

            “Sorry sir. You startled me.” Brandon said, breathing heavily.

            “I see supper is ready”, said his father with a voice of impatience and went over to one of the plates, dished up, and went back to the living room. Brandon noticed that as his father had passed him, he saw the death stare once again, but ignored it. He pressed the start button on the washer and the washer started to fill with water. Brandon went up to his room while he waited for the washer to get done. He went upstairs, went inside his bedroom, and was so tired that he went to bed and fell on his bed and went to sleep.

Brandon was awoken by the sound of stomping feet and knew that his father was mad at him for something. But what could he possibly be mad about?

“The washer is done!” Brandon screamed as he jumped out of bed and his bedroom door opened. He saw the image of his father with the belt that he kept above the fireplace. His father came over with the belt in his right hand.

            “It has been ten minutes since the washer has been done!” Brandon’s father had said.

            “Sorry sir. I must have fallen asleep”, Brandon said back.

            “Is that how I raised you, to sleep on the job?” His father yelled back.

            Brandon said nothing. He didn’t have a response to what his father had just said. Then he remembered the belt, but it was too late. Brandon screamed in pain as his father smacked him with his belt repeatedly, until he felt satisfied. He swung, swung, and swung some more. Then, he stopped.

            “That’ll teach you”, his dad said as he went back downstairs, “Get the laundry done!”

            “Yes sir”, Brandon moaned. He tried to get up, but the pain was intense from the fighting from Fred Battles and now his father. He limped down the stairs to the washing machine and switched the clothes from the washer to the dryer, pressed start, and loaded his laundry in. His father’s laundry had to be done first and Brandon had learned that a long time ago when his father smacked him with the belt for that particular reason. Once he was done with that area, he looked at the time. It was eight o’ clock.

            Brandon was tired, but managed to stay awake in his bed until nine thirty in his bed when he heard the beep that signified that the laundry was done. Brandon quickly went downstairs to the dryer, opened it, put the laundry in his father’s basket, and put it upstairs, next to his bedroom across from his own bedroom.

            As he set the basket down, Brandon heard footsteps behind him, turned around, to see the shadow of his father in the darkness. He could not make out his father’s facial expression, but heard his voice.

            “I hope you’ve learned your lesson”, he said as he slammed his bedroom door to go to bed.

            Brandon thought about his laundry, but he decided to leave it until the following day, when he got up in the morning. Brandon went to his bedroom, fell into his sheets on his bed, turned off his light, and soon fell asleep.

It was quiet in the bedroom of Brandon Hilgarde with no noise, except a creaking noise coming from the old oak tree from outside. The wind howled in the night, like a lonely wolf in need of company.

Outside on the sidewalk was a blackbird, signing a little song before the clock struck the midnight hour. The wind howled even more, but the bird simply continued to sing its song, as if it were trying to warn somebody about something. It continued to sing as it went towards Brandon’s window cell and stood on it. It sung louder and louder as Brandon started to stir. Just then, the blackbird stopped singing. It started to look around itself, but saw nothing, so it continued to sing.

As it started to sing, a man-like figure killed it with a blink of an eye. The blackbird fell to the ground and let out one last chirp before it died. This figure was in a black cloak and had two red eyes. It looked at the dead bird on the ground and walked past it towards Brandon’s house. There was a gleam of light going across the sky faster than anything ever seen by man. The light went past and the figure looked into Brandon’s bedroom window and hissed loudly as its eyes grew even brighter.

Brandon woke up to a sound of silence, which rarely happened at all. He looked at his watch. It was 6:59. Why didn’t his dad wake him up for school today? Brandon was thinking about that question for the longest time, until he realized he had to get his laundry from the dryer, get breakfast, get dressed, and brush his teeth. What was he waiting for?

            He rushed to the dryer, got a day’s worth of clothes, grabbed a strawberry Pop-Tart package, and ran back upstairs. Brandon started to undress when he noticed the bruises on his back from when his dad had attacked him the night before. He also noticed something else. His clock was stuck at twelve o’ clock. He would have to change the batteries when he got back from school this afternoon. Brandon put on a green shirt, blue underwear and pants, and white socks. He then put on some deodorant he kept in his dresser drawer and headed from the bathroom to brush his teeth.

            As Brandon was passing his father’s bedroom, he noticed that the window in his bedroom was banging against the window pane because of the wind. He went inside his father’s bedroom, past his bed, and to the window. Brandon shut the window and turned around to find his father lying in his bed. Brandon screamed, jumped, and then stopped.

“Why wasn’t he responding to my screaming?” thought Brandon. He looked at his face, eyes open with a frozen surprised expression on his face. He rubbed his shoulder to get him up, but he did not budge. Then he saw his dad’s clock on the opposite wall. It said 12:00, the same as Brandon’s clock.

            Brandon screamed in terror and ran downstairs to find that all the clocks in the house read 12:00. Why? Brandon simply grabbed his backpack and Pop-Tart and ran to the school as fast as he could. As he ran he looked behind him for just a second and he bumped into someone. As he turned to see who it was, Brandon felt the sudden feeling of terror, seeing Fred with the same surprised look on his face. Fred had an half empty cola can in his hand and was wearing his leather jacket. Brandon noticed something sticking out of his jacket. It looked like a piece of paper. Brandon carefully grabbed it and read it. It was a party invitation for the party of Jessica Doodles, his girlfriend. It had said that there was a party at 11:30 last night to 2:30 this morning. This was all coming to Brandon very weirdly, so he decided to go and talk to Jessica to get some answers.

Brandon ran to Jessica’s house on Maple Street, a block away from his house. The house was a red color with brown trimming around the doors and windows around the house. Brandon walked slowly to the front door and pressed the doorbell five times. No answer. He rang it five times more and there still was no answer. Next thing Brandon did was knock on the door, but the door was already open, so Brandon opened the door slowly, slower than he ever opened a door. Then he slowly went inside, turned on the lights in what looked like the living room and Brandon could not believe his eyes and screamed. There were kids from his class and other kids in other grades in this room, frozen solid like Fred Battles and his father. The looks on their faces were of course frozen surprises on their faces.

“Jessie”, Brandon called, “Are you okay? Jessie?” called Brandon again. He saw a staircase and went up it. They squeaked, just like his staircase at his house. Once he got up to the top, he could see more kids, frozen in surprise, but he could not see Jessica here either. Then he saw the door with a bunch of stickers on it, which had to be Jessica’s bedroom. Brandon opened it slowly and was knocking at the same time.

“Jessie,” Brandon called once more, “I’m coming in”. He went inside and turned on the light and jumped at the sight of Jessica Doodles and Marcus Queens on Jessica’s bed, frozen kissing each other. This proved to Brandon that his theory of no one, not even his girlfriend, loved him. Brandon started to cry at the sight of Jessica in the arms of Marcus. He looked at Marcus. Marcus was a person much like Fred Battles, with the leather jacket and had black hair. He also liked to pick on Brandon whenever he had a chance to do so. Then, Brandon looked at Jessica. She had a beautiful smile and eyes that glowed brightly as she smiled, which was her best quality. Brandon couldn’t stand it anymore. He ran out of the house, away from the memories of Jessica Doodles. He decided to start to head home, since Brandon assumed that everyone was frozen in town, the county, the state of Maine, the country, or even the world.

Brandon walked past Fred Battles again and stopped to look at him. He decided to give the invitation back to him and put it back in his leather jacket pocket. Brandon kept on walking towards his house, thinking about Jessica and how she had cheated on him at her party. He knew that if everything was back to normal soon, he would have to break up with her, no matter how much she would say that she loved him. Brandon knew she did not love him if she was kissing someone else at her own party that Brandon wasn’t even invited to.

He approached his house and went inside, carrying his backpack on his back and set the Pop-Tart on the counter. He couldn’t even think of food right now, for he was shocked at what was going on around. Brandon was tired and needed a rest, but he had so much to do today. But then he remembered how everyone and time itself was frozen and he fell asleep to the sound of nothing, the sound Brandon Hilgarde loved best.

Brandon woke up to 12:13 PM on his clock in his bedroom, so he knew it wasn’t a dream that he was put in a paradise where he could finally be alone. There was no one that could hurt him physically and mentally. It was almost heaven and Brandon could not believe that he was here finally. It made Brandon feel alive and free, like a bird leaving its nest.

            Brandon got out of bed, happy as ever, but not enough to celebrate, for his dad was technically still across the hall and he could get in trouble if the paradise would disappear. So he decided to go somewhere where there was no one at all.

            Brandon went outside and smelt the fresh air. The sun was shining, but the birds were not signing, nor was there any noise. It was just him, Brandon Hilgarde. He walked the other way from yesterday away from Fred, Jessica, and everyone else that ruined his life. It had to suck for everyone else that they were frozen and could not have the advantage of hurting Brandon for the fun of it. Although, Brandon didn’t miss them at all nor did he want them to come back from their frozen lives. All he wanted to do is enjoy the unlimited time he had while the time he still had was still unlimited.

            He approached the school eventually to see that no one was there either. The school was absolutely empty, like his stomach. He had forgotten to eat breakfast or lunch and now his stomach was trying to eat itself, growling like an angry dog. He looked across to the grocery store. How convenient that there was a store when he needed it the most. A lot of people, especially high school students liked to get breakfast or lunch at grocery store across the school. One, it was cheaper by a nickel or so. Two, there was always good service. If you even try to get food at school, the old lunch lady would bark at you to get more of the slop they were serving that day.

            Brandon entered the grocery store to find something to eat. He liked that he could just walk in and out with food and without paying anything because who was going to arrest him? Were the frozen politicians in Washington DC or the owner of the store going to catch him? There was the thought of why the store was open in the first place, but Brandon ignored it and got the pizza that sat in the warm serving tray on the top rack and walked out of the store. By the time he had reached home, he had finished the pizza and his stomach was quiet now that there was actually something inside there.

            He walked up on the porch and went inside the house. The belt was where it usually was along with the usual furniture, so there was no worry of being robbed with one person on Planet Earth. As he went upstairs, he had forgotten about his phone that was left in his backpack ever since yesterday. Brandon was lucky. It had fifteen percent of battery juice left in its system, so Brandon plugged it in. As it charged, Brandon put away his clothes from yesterday, even though there was no need to do so. Once he was done with that, he decided to play solitaire on his bed.

In his first game, Brandon had all the spades in the space above along with the diamonds and hearts. He was proud of himself as he laid the king of clubs on top of the queen of clubs. He decided to play another one, since he had nothing else to do anyway. The start of game two was horrible, he thought he was done, until the nine of diamonds showed up and he won the game once again. It was rare for Brandon to win two solitaire games in a row, but Brandon did not care. He had a good reputation of being champion of card games in general. Crazy Eights, Gold Fish, it didn’t matter. He loved playing cards, even if he lost every single game he played.

He was just about to start his third game of solitaire when his phone beeped, which signified a text. Who could possibly be texting him. The world of confusion was within Brandon as he went over where his phone was charging and he had read the text from the number 235-5438, which read “I am watching you”.

As he read the text over and over again to himself, Brandon felt the sense of horror. Who could be texting him? Brandon started to go through people he had for sure seen.

            “My father, Fred Battles, Jessica Doodles, Marcus Queens, and all of his other classmates were at that party”, thought Brandon. Who had the number 235-5438? There was only one way to for sure figure it out. He would have to go to a phonebook for help. He looked up Fred Battles’ phone number to find it was 235-1122. The next phone number would be the Jessica Doodles’ residence. Brandon looked it up. It was 235-3465. What other numbers could there possibly be.

            Wait a minute”, thought Brandon, “if a person was watching me, they would have to be close enough to actually see me”. Brandon looked outside, straight across his house. It was Mr. Nozzleburg’s house. He looked in the phone book to see if he could find his history teacher somewhere inside this book. As he was looking through the phone book, there were a bunch of thoughts going through his head.

            “How could Mr. Nozzleburg not be frozen like everyone else?” thought Brandon, “And why is he watching me in the first place? I always did well in his class, had every answer in mind, and wasn’t afraid to say an answer. What did he have against me?” Brandon though on and on about how there was a possibility of someone surviving the incident that had happened last night. Brandon kept on looking. He was in the N’s, but was not quite in the area of the last name Nozzleburg.

Just then, something caught Brandon’s eye. There was someone in the house across the street and was moving! That’s impossible! It had to be Mr. Nozzleburg that was watching him. But the reoccurring thought was still going through Brandon’s head. Why? Brandon watched the person walk across the upstairs hallway, down the stair to the living room. The person had sit down in a chair in the living room.

Brandon ignored the phone book and immediately went to Mr. Nozzleburg’s house. He went down the creaking stairs, across the living room to the front door, opened it and headed over to the house. It was a nice, sunny day in general today, but the weather did not catch Brandon’s attention, for e was in a trance to figure out who exactly was watching him and why they were ruining his first full day of happiness.

Brandon knocked on the door and waited for an answer, but no one came to the door. He knocked again, but there was still no answer. Why? Brandon noticed that the door was unlocked, so he turned the gold-colored doorknob and opened it. As the door made a squeaking noise, Brandon looked into the darkness that filled the household.

“Mr. Nozzleburg”, called Brandon, “are you home. Hello?” There was a pause. “Hello?” Brandon walked around the house, but there didn’t seem to be anyone at home. Brandon entered the living room and looked at the chair the person sat in when he was watching that other person, whoever he or she was. There was one thing that Brandon saw in the chair, nothing. Where could the person be? Was he hiding somewhere or was it his imagination? It had to be his imagination. Why would anyone be alive and moving right now? Brandon Hilgarde was the only person alive now.

Then, there was noise coming from upstairs that sounded like footsteps. Aha! Brandon knew that there was someone in the house.

“I know you’re there Mr. Nozzleburg. Why don’t you come here?” There was a pause and no answer from the person above on the second floor. “Hello? Mr. Nozzleburg. It’s Brandon.” There was still no response. Brandon couldn’t take it anymore. He had to know who was making noise upstairs, so he started up the stairs. One step after another he had took, making noise with each step. Then there was more footsteps coming from upstairs.

“Who in hell was up there?” thought Brandon. There had to be someone up there. He had kept on hearing noises from up here, so Brandon continued up the stairs cautiously, yet forcibly. He went around the bend, almost to the top, where he saw nothing still. Then, there was a door that looked like a bedroom. Brandon went inside it and jumped at the sight of Mr. Nozzleburg, screaming in terror, but was frozen. That meant that there was someone else that was trying to spy on him. But who was it? He turned around to leave the bedroom to the hallway. As he was leaving, there was a creaking noise coming around the corner. Brandon went around the corner, but there was no one in sight. There was, although, a door slightly opened. He held the knob and slowly opened it, then opened it quickly. There was still no one there. Then there was a creaking noise coming from the bedroom again. Someone was trying to get away from him, but whoever it was would not get away.

Brandon went back towards the bedroom. The door was closed when he left it, but was now opened, clear as day. Brandon walked past the tall houseplant and to the stairs. Just as he was about to reach the stairs, something painful had pushed him into the wall across the hall. Brandon took a good look at what pushed him. It looked like a creature from horror movies. It had a black cloak on with razor sharp claws. But there was something that stuck out to him. This thing had glowing red eyes.

Before Brandon could react to what was going on, the creature had pushed him through the window behind him and Brandon fell two stories to the ground below. Brandon was in pain, for the glass had cut his arms, legs, and better yet his entire body. He felt the pain as he tried to pull a piece of glass from his upper arm that he landed on. Ouch, was it painful, but he knew he had to get it out immediately. Once he got it out, he screamed in pain, but then realized that that thing, whatever it was, was still after him and Brandon ran for his house. He ran faster than he had run this morning to Jessica’s house or any time in his life. He reached for the doorknob, opened it, and slammed the door shut. Brandon ran to his room and slammed that door harder than he slammed the front door. He went underneath his bed and stayed there. He planned to lie underneath his bed, until he knew for sure that he was safe from that beast.

Brandon looked from underneath his bed and saw the phonebook. He reached for it, grabbed it with his left hand, and pulled it underneath the bed with him. He then found the flashlight on his nightstand and brought it under the bed also. He flipped one page and found Mr. Nozzleburg’s cell phone number and could see it, but not believe it. Mr. Nozzleburg’s phone number was 235-5438.

Brandon was horrified and worst yet, there was something after him still and he knew he had to get out and go elsewhere, preferably not getting killed in the process. He had to think of a way to get away from this thing, but how could he possibly do it. Brandon thought for a while.

“Maybe I could sneak out the back window”, Brandon thought, “or I could call 911”, Brandon soon changed his mind, “Wait a minute there is no one here, except for me and that… uh… beast from the house of Mr. Nozzleburg.” Brandon had decided to sneak out the back window and run in that direction. He packed his backpack full of food from the pantry and a change of clothes, just in case, and was heading for the window.

Just then, Brandon Hilgarde heard the front door open and slam and a screeching hiss coming towards the staircase in his house. The creature was now in his house.

                He didn’t know what to do. He had to get out of that house somehow and the window was his only option now. Brandon climbed on top of his desk to the window and opened it. He could see the sun start to set and his entire life flashed before his eyes. He remembered his mother, abusive father, and the bullies at school. But Brandon had to put all of that aside for now, for he had to save his own life first.

            On the edge of the gutter outside, Brandon took a last look at his room and was remembering how tough his life was in this dark room. Although his entire life revolved around living in this house, it was time to leave. He was finally free and Brandon had to protect himself to stay alive. As he was climbing down the gutter he could hear the stomping feet of the monster and the opening of the bedroom door of Brandon. Brandon had reached the ground and had started to run again. This new life of his was starting to get on his nerves. There was too much running involved for him to accomplish. He looked behind him and saw that he was for sure being followed, so he ran faster, making the trees to the side of him disappear behind him. There was one problem with this big chase for Brandon. He was starting to get very tired.

He stopped to catch his breath, while looking around for a hiding place. He looked for a log, cave, or something in that type of order, so he could hide out for a while. Then he saw a log in the distance and could hear the beast heading towards him. It was his only shot and he had to take a chance. Brandon darted to the log, jumped inside it, and covered himself up with the pine brush from outside the log. Then all was quiet.

Maybe I’ll die here”, Brandon thought, “I’m so scared right now”. His thoughts were interrupted by a growling, hissing noise from outside of the log. The beast was definitely here and he needed to escape with his life somehow.

There is the possibility that the creature could not find him or was lost”, Brandon continued to think, but everything seemed hopeless. He held on to his green sweater tightly to calm his nerves and to ease them away.

The beast was outside the log looking at the trees and shrubs that scattered across the valley below. The beast with his human-like features was ferocious with huge teeth and glowing red eyes. Then it saw nothing moving, running, or anything of that sort, so it left in a black cloud of smoke, leaving Brandon stuck in the middle of the woods.

Brandon heard nothing outside, but was still terrified. He decided that the best thing for him to do is to fall asleep in the log, until some time had passed and he knew that he was safe from the clutches of the beastly creature. Brandon lied down on some dry grass and fell asleep to the sound of the wind outside.

                The black-cloaked creature walked towards a stone-like structure. There were vines growing out of it and had an entrance. The beast walked inside it and growled as it entered. After he entered, the structure glowed brightly, brighter than any star or light bulb could produce.

            Brandon heard the growl and was immediately awakened. He looked at his watch. It was ten to eleven at night. He was hesitant to figure out what was going on, but could not resist the temptation or his curiosity. Brandon crawled out of the log and saw an enormous light in the distance. Brandon knew that he had two possibilities. One, he could go back to the house and attempt to sleep in his own bed. Two, he could see what was producing the light in the distance.

            Either way, that thing knows where I am”, thought Brandon, “I’m going to go back to the house to get something to drink quickly.” Brandon went through the woods back to the house and was unaware of the dangers that may lie ahead. But he didn’t care.

            As Brandon approached the house, he was shocked to see what had happened. The house was burned to the ground. There was nothing left, except for ash and a few pipes and appliances lying around the entire length of the house. That stupid beast! Brandon picked up a piece of rubble from the house and threw it at a pine tree with a yell. Brandon wanted revenge, but he knew vengeance was not the answer nor was it a solution to his problem. He knew that all he could do was to have faith in himself and the person that he is. He turned to look at the light in the distance. Brandon knew that the beast wanted him to go to that structure and that it was probably a trap to kill him.

            Although he would regret it, his feelings were irresistible to the light and he started walking. Brandon tried to fight it, but it was not use. He was attracted to it like a mosquito and headed towards the structure.

He knew that he had to get out of this somehow, but it wasn’t any use. Brandon had no control of his body and could not fight the temptations of walking to the lighted structure in the distance. There was nothing for Brandon Hilgarde to do except to wait and see what would turn up when he would enter the beast’s lair. As Brandon approached the structure, he was confused. He had never seen this structure before in his life, nor did he know what it was. The entrance was gloomy and dark. Brandon felt a chill go up his back as he shivered in the dark. As he entered, Brandon heard a growl and hissing noises and could not help, but be scared of the consequences that would lie ahead. Once he regained control of himself, Brandon tried to leave, but his exiting skills were interrupted by the front gate of the stone structure slamming shut and everything inside grew dark, except for a light up ahead. Brandon was cautious as he entered the middle of the structure, but was curious of what the light was, so he entered. The foul stench of the beast was surrounding Brandon’s nostrils as he took his entrance. Moans and cries were heard that sounded like children, calling for a way out of this structure. Brandon started thinking again. “Why am I here?” Brandon thought, “What is this place anyhow?” Just then, a shot of cold breeze blew across the room and the beast appeared on top of the central dome that contained the light that Brandon had seen previously outside from his burnt down house. The beastly creature appeared on top of the dome and gave a screeching howl. The howl was so intense in Brandon’s ears that he had cringed and was brought to his hands and knees to avoid the shriek. The beast jumped to the ground and made the Earth shake as it landed. Brandon hated to this, but there was no choice in the matter. He had to run. He saw an entrance to another room and had taken that way to escape the creature. The beast followed closely and was gaining on Brandon. Brandon ran until he started to feel a falling sensation. He had fallen through a trapdoor. He awoke with pain going through his entire body. Brandon looked at his injuries throughout his legs, arms, and everywhere else to his astonishment. He looked around and noticed that he was in some sort of dungeon. He got up quickly and crashed into a skeleton chained upon the stone wall. The skeleton gave a moan and screamed loudly. Brandon screamed and ran to the other side of the dungeon. The skeleton was moving around, trying to get out of the chains, but couldn’t. Brandon backed into the wall and felt it move. He jumped dramatically to the moving wall, when he realized that it was a way out of the dungeon. Entering the doorway, Brandon felt the sensation that something was wrong. All of the sudden, he felt a bony hand on his shoulder. The skeleton had escaped. The skeleton moaned again and had started on fire. It grunted and tried to grab Brandon. It barely missed Brandon, but burned his right sleeve of his shirt off. Brandon ran as fast as he could from the monster that was following quickly behind him. Then, Brandon stopped. He saw a rock sitting on the ground to the left of him. He picked it up and felt how heavy it was. That stone gave Brandon an idea. It was quiet in the maze and the skeleton was walking down a stone path. As it walked, it left a burning trail behind. It roared fiercely and continued on. It approached a four-way intersection. “Hey! You!” called Brandon. The skeleton looked at him, but had no time to react. Brandon had thrown the rock at it, breaking the bones of its body. It gave one last grunt and its fire burnt out. Victory was Brandon’s as he cheered and jumped in the air. Doing so made another passage open. Cautiously, Brandon went inside the doorway, as the dust cleared out of his way. The wall closed behind him and it grew dark inside. Brandon was entering to what looked like a maze and started to attempt to find a way out of this dreary place. He saw that there were torches on both sides of the wall, giving of a little light. Brandon could see that the torches were starting to dim even more, so he started to walk faster. First he took a right, then a left, then another right. Then all was quiet in the maze, and Brandon hiding in the shadows of a stone wall, until Brandon heard the beast shriek once again. Brandon panicked and ran even faster, but his troubles were not over yet. The maze structure had started on fire and he now had to escape from the beast and now the ferocious fire. The fire was fierce and was starting to burn Brandon’s skin. The pain of burning was so intense that Brandon could barely walk. He was getting nowhere with his running and had to stop for a minute. He looked ahead and saw a four-way intersection and had to choose one. He decided to go left because from what Brandon had learned, the right direction should always be left. Brandon’s instincts were correct. There was a light indicating the exit and Brandon darted for the exit. The pain in his legs was bad, with burns and scars from the fire and the running he had to do to escape the beast. Brandon Hilgarde heard the beast, but didn’t seem him nor did he care. He was almost to the exit and could smell the fresh air outside when the beast tackled him into the wall. The beast was, for sure, trying to kill Brandon, slashing his body with his claws. He thought for sure that he was dead. Brandon couldn’t take it anymore. He had to try to defeat this creature that wanted to kill him so badly. So with the reflex and the pain he was going through, he kicked as hard as he could. The beast went flying in the air and hit the stone wall with a thud. Brandon immediately ran to the exit into the fresh air and screamed in victory. He had won! Brandon could not believe that he was free from the beast, at least for now. He was so happy that he wanted to go back home, but he knew he couldn’t because the house had burned down a few hours ago. But Brandon wanted to see the neighborhood one more time. He walked through the woods, for he was sick and tired of running from every single thing that he would encounter. The darkness around him wasn’t so bad to Brandon. He had gotten used to living in the dark and staying in it to survive. He looked at the stars above in the clear, black sky and saw how they shone brightly to show their white color. The moon was a waning crescent moon, which was Brandon’s favorite type of moon. “For being bullied by everyone and everything, life wasn’t too bad for me”, Brandon thought as he approached his backyard and dropped his backpack to see the astonishing spectacle he had ever seen. The house had come back. Brandon was cautious as he entered through the back door to the kitchen and headed for the living room. Everything was back from the burning that had happened before, but why? Was it a trap? Should he go further? Brandon decided to continue into the house. He stared at the fireplace and he knew something was missing from the house. As he was trying to figure out what it was, he looked above it to find that the shiny, black belt was gone. But why was it gone? Was the beast in his house again? There were so many questions going through Brandon’s head that he couldn’t function at the moment. He decided to sit in his dad’s chair, since he was practically gone anyways. As he sat down, Brandon heard something upstairs. “Oh crap”, thought Brandon as someone or something was coming down the staircase. Brandon thought it was the beast and darted behind the couch across the living room, not even trying to breathe. He heard a voice coming from right in front of the couch, so he listened. “Yes Mr. Fader, I would like to come to work for you…You want me to come this coming Monday… That would be okay… Okay. See you on Monday then… Bye.” It was someone on the telephone. This made Brandon very confused. How could there be anyone alive if everyone was frozen solid? He looked up and took a peek at the mysterious person only to find out that it was his father. Brandon screamed in terror because he was in shock, but saw one thing peculiar. His father did not respond or even look towards the screaming he had just done. Why? Was he ignoring him or getting the belt ready? He couldn’t be sure what to expect. Brandon tried to get his father’s attention, but he did not respond. He was terrified. He darted for the door and ran outside to find that the sun was starting to rise and Brandon noticed something else. He could see right through himself. Brandon fell to ¬¬the ground and started to cry as he faded away into nowhere as the sun rose.

Freddy Battles was walking home from the most fun party he had ever had. He had tried to get Jessica Doodles to go for a walk with him, but had refused, for she had a date with Marcus Queens. But he didn’t care. He continued walking down the sidewalk and saw the house of Darren Hilgarde on the corner of Tree View Avenue and Orchard Street. As Fred walked past the blue house, he saw a bright light go across the sky. Thinking it was a shooting star, Fred made a wish and continued on. He had thoughts of happiness and nothing could possibly stop him or make him upset or depressed tonight. As he was about to turn left on the corner, he heard a high-pitched screech in the distance. “What was that?” thought Fred as he froze in his tracks. He looked around to make sure that no one was around. He saw nobody behind him, except a blackbird on the sidewalk, so he ignored it. He turned back around to see a ferocious beast standing in front of him. He could see the red eyes that glowed in the night. It hissed at Fred, showing the sharp teeth inside his mouth. Freddy Battles screamed and ran into the woods with the beast closing in behind him.



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