The Lost Children Of Hendon Street

It was 23:09 when the screams began again like every other night. Horrible screaming of normal people you would see on the street, teachers, doctors, veterinarians, but they were never found. Hundreds of lost souls, or just rather people, were announced missing by the end of the summer, but never found. Not a single piece of evidence was ever found. Death certificates of the hundred and twenty nine people were found on their beds, on their cushions and some in their bathrooms, scattered over the floor. The police never went further with the investigations and the families were devastated and furious at the police.
" But sir, we don't have enough evidence, we don't even know where to begin!" they would say most of the time when the family members of the dead’s families would challenge the police. Little did anyone know what really happened...
"Start from the beginning, you say that they kept you in separate rooms, cut off from the world and then killed by your nightmares?"
"Yes! That is what I said for the last hour," Timothy said in a hysterical voice. Fresh wounds bled over his clothes that were still on his body.
"And why do I find this hard to believe? Why are you declared dead?" the police officer kept asking the questions while Timothy sat with the pain soaring through his body.
"I don't know, I don't fucking know! Can I just go to the hospital pl..." he tried to finish his sentence when he felt the earth pulling him closer. His head hit the floor first with his body quick to follow. Slowly but surely his eyes closed off from the world as he faded to the dark black room in his mind again. When he woke up the setting was too familiar, too 'familiar' to be the hospital.
He opened up his eyes again to look at the room again with a more open perspective. It was the same room as the night before. The frustrated scream filled the four corners of the room with haste as Timothy fell to his knees.
"It won't help screaming Timmy" the voice of a small girl came through the single hole through the wall. "No one will hear you. You are dead." The voice was calm and scary at the same time. The calmness in her voice is what unsettled Timothy. How could someone be so calm and cruel at the same time?
"Anyone, help me!" his fists hit the wall with brute force. He could hear the crack that filled the room as his fist hit the wall. "Fu..."
"No, you may not use that word. You know what happens when you say that word. You know the outside is not meant for you." Laughter filled the air around his numb body laying on the floor. Timothy, the local dentist, about 48 years old, felt the life his mother gave to him at birth, being sucked out of him slowly by the laughter of a young girl.
"Why..." is all he could manage when the laughter ended.
"You will know in time, you naughty boy." The slow steps of the clicking of her shoes echoed through the hall and in the room leaving Timothy even more dulled out.
He closed his eyes again after what felt like ages, his eyelids hitting each other with a bang.
"Why are you hurt like this? What really happened to you, this time tell the truth."
"I am telling you the truth officer! She pulled out a knife and started cutting me; I couldn't get her off me." Timothy shouted over the table with the two coffee mugs steaming. Small cracks filled the table with countless stains on them from the hours of witnesses sitting on the same spot Timothy was sitting.
"Are you actually to make me believe that story?" The cop said with a smile on his face. Slowly, whilst Timothy looked the cop in the eyes, his face melted away revealing the face of a small girl, not seven years old. He kicked himself away from the table and hit his head on the ground. His view slowly faded to black again.
"Keep talking like that and that dream will never stop," the small girl's voice, this time in his face, didn't echo through the building. He could feel the warmth of a breath over his face as he opened his eyes. Blue eyes, pale white skin, deep crimson lips and dark black hair, her face small and skin soft, black rings around her eyes, she looked at Timothy as he woke up. Fear filled his body while he lay numb on the cold floor. The light hanging from the roof flickered as she walked nearer.
"I think you are a real handsome man for your age," her voice was faint, just above a whisper. He could barely make out where she stood with the crust inside his eyes.
"I am so sorry to do this, I am. Or maybe I'm not. This is quite fun. The first time was the worst. Her name was Sharon. She was so pretty; she almost looked the same as I did. She screamed like a whore. Her nude body floating in the tub of warm water. I couldn't sleep that night. It was terrible." her voice trembled as she thought about Sharon, her mom. She never talked to anyone about it, and it stayed inside of her, boiling like something in hot water. But this water never cooled down; in fact it only became warmer the more she thought about it.
"Please don't." he said in a tiny voice that barely escaped from his wide open mouth.
"You all say that for some reason, like your life is more worth than ours. We wanted to live more than you people. You people just breathed, wasting the air. But we, the children of tomorrow needed to step back and die so that you could carry on living. For some reason we don’t know, but what we know is that we could do so much more. We were young and energetic, happy about learning and we wanted to live. We wanted to do something better than, than to be an unsuccessful dentist." Her voice changed from being soft and calm to agitated and almost violent. I scared Timothy even more than the calm and hysterical laughs.
"Please, I didn’t do anything," he tried to plea for his life as he looked at her more closely now that he removed the sleep from his eyes.
"That is the whole point! You didn’t do anything at all. You didn’t live, you were just there. You made no difference out there. You were basically dead but still breathing!"
As he looked closely at her face, something moved in his stomach. Nausea entered his body and he felt that he was going to vomit. He remembered her. Her face was the same one in the paper about two years ago. A bus that drove into the ocean. One or two survived, including the teacher and bus driver.
"I know who you are," Timothy said in a weary voice. "You were on that bus, that bus, the one that crashed in, in, uhh- in lake Den- Lake Denv-..."
"In Lake Denvour, yes. I sat right at the back with my friends. We laughed and joked about the museum lady that was so slow that we could run around her. Then, then the crash came. We heard the water coming through the front window, the screams... Why am I even telling you this." she looked down furiously at her feet. She started walking toward Timothy again. His body was now numb from the injection she gave him while he was sleeping. His memory was leaving him and he couldn’t talk anymore. He was basically dying slowly.
She was strong for her age. The body of Timothy laid in the tub now; she pulled him into it herself. His eyes were still open and he could see and hear everything, but he couldn’t move or smell - but that didn’t matter at all.
"This would be quicker if you just let it go," she said in a sad voice. She always cried when she did it. Her body started to shake as the mumbles of Timothy broke the silence in the room she had for about twenty minutes. It was unsettling.
"I know you would be missed, I will miss you too daddy," she said with a single tear dripping onto his shoulder as she leaned over to kiss his cheek.
Timothy's eyes shot over her face and her body as she moved away from him. He couldnt believe it. He couldn’t think straight. Was it her? The girl he lost at birth when he walked away from her mother. Was it her? He mumbled for the last time when a tear erupted from his eye. She saw the tear on his face and ran forward to him. She tried to pull him out of the water, but it was too late. He was gone.
She screamed out loud when he closed his eyes for the last time. She stood up from the bath tub and walked around it in circles for about an hour when Pete, her best friend, stumbled in.
"What is wrong? I heard you scream,"
"I killed him, my dad. We weren’t supposed to kill our dads. He didn’t even know me."
"Shhh Alana. Shhhh," Pete put his arm around her when they walked through the wall. She would feel better tomorrow. She would feel better.