The Boy in the Cul De Sac (Part I)

This story starts in 2009, the year my parents divorced. My dad made the decision to stay in Kentucky while my mom, twin sisters, and I were moving to Georgia to stay with my grandmother. I was actually excited for this move. I got to see my grandma, got to eat endless Korean food, and got to live near the beach. Everything was expected to turn out great, but of course, it didn't.

My grandmother is highly religious. She started teaching me stories out of the Bible as long as I can remember. My mom on the other hand does believe in God and says a prayer here and there, but never forced my sisters and I into church. Being that my grandmother is so religious, in order for us to live under her roof, we had to go to church. This was not an issue for me at all, because I actually enjoyed my time in church as well as reading from the Bible.

As our entire family began going to service almost every day of the week, we all became spiritually invested. I was 9-years-old during this time and felt so connected with this small group of people and the relationship I shared with God felt unbreakable to any power.

Then my nightmares began.

I was having a nightmare every single night. They weren't just "normal little kid" nightmares, they were absolutely terrifying. Nightmares of me being kidnapped by the Grim Reaper and him ripping my vocal cords out so I couldn't scream, one where my body was being torn in half, and another where I was left in the middle of a hot desert surrounded by my dead family members. Dreams that NO ONE should endure, especially a 9-year-old.

It got so bad to the point I could never be left alone, even in the light of day. I began seeing shadows while I was awake, I began sleeping only three to five hours a night, and I began distancing myself from the word of God because I noticed that almost as soon as I began attending church, these nightmares arose.

It wasn't until I had this one disturbing nightmare. Yes, it was scary, but it was different from the others.

It starts off with my mom, sisters, and I and we are pulling into a cul de sac of these five long, brick houses. They don't even look like houses. They look more like old military buildings. I see my mom and she looks so excited.

She looks at me and points to one of the ugly houses and yelps, "Isn't it beautiful, Hannah?!"

I say, "What? That house?"

"Not just THAT house, silly! OUR house! Our new home!"

Immediately, I feel uneasy. Not only is this house ugly, but it is the dirtiest and darkest one in the cul de sac. The only good thing about living here is the fact that there are children here to play with and not a bunch of grumpy old people, even though it looks as though they would be the ones to live here.

I notice my sisters are nowhere in sight so I begin to look for them. I see a group of three kids behind the third building in the cul de sac—two of them are my twin sisters, the other one is a pale little boy. He is holding a stick and my sister Jessica is laughing while touching his shoulder. He was dressed in old clothes, clothes that looked to be from the 1900s, but it seems as though I was the only one to question it. He was making dead eye-contact with me, with a very creepy, serious look on his face. His skin was so pale and his eyes were so dark, he looked sick.

I suddenly hear my mom yell out for me to help her start moving things into the house. I immediately run back to her to help and notice my mom moving furniture out of the house instead of into the house. I thought to myself:

"Oh, thank God. She must have changed her mind after looking inside."

Then I noticed she was moving out a dirty antique couch that had cobwebs all over it. I run inside and the house is fully furnished with furniture similar to the couch.

I say to my mom, "Mom, I don't think we should be moving this furniture. I don't think we should move here, period. This place gives me a terrible feeling."

She replies, "Hannah, every new place scares you. I don't want this ugly furniture in here, so we're moving it all out and you're going to help."

I was so angry with my mom. How could she possibly think this was a good idea? I mean, the house was filled with old furniture as if someone had been living there already, but she just ignored it and threw away whoever's belongings it was.

The hot sun dropped and the first night in the house had begun.

We all sat on the floor eating a pizza and drinking Pepsi.

My sister Jessica then says, "I made a new friend today, Mom!"

"I knew y'all would! Tell me about them, hun."

"His name is Pete. He says he is 8, which is how old me and Gloria are! He actually lives in a different house further down in the woods. He said me and Gloria could go see his house tomorrow if we wanted! Can we?"

"Sure hun, but Hannah has to go with you both."

I interrupt, "What?! I do not want to go further into the woods! Let alone to some random boy's house!"

My mom replies, "Yes, you will, Hannah. I have to work tomorrow and I need you to keep an eye on your sisters anyway."

I let out a sigh and agree to go with my sisters tomorrow.

We watched Sixteen Candles before dispersing into our bedrooms. It was kind of a tradition to watch Sixteen Candles in every new house we move into.

As I make my way to my new room from the bathroom, I notice my bedroom is the very last one in this long dark hallway. Why would my mom give me this room knowing this place already scares me? I was so close to knocking on my mom's door to ask if I could sleep with her, but realized she'd tell me no anyway because she wants me to get used to everything as fast as possible.

I lie down in bed and there is no way I will be sleeping tonight. I have my lights on and my radio turned up as loud as possible without waking my family up. I then notice something shining in the pitch black corner of my room. It's silver, long, looks like a knife. It's moving closer and I realize it's Pete.

Pete is in my bedroom at 12 AM.

I immediately yell, "What are you doing in my room?! In my house?! With a knife?!"

"This is my house, Hannah. I came to you first because I noticed the way you were staring at me in the cul de sac. I could tell by the look on your face you knew my secret. I am dead."

"I didn't think you were dead, I just thought you were sick! Why are you here with a knife? Why didn't you say something earlier about living in this house?"

"I'm here to teach you a lesson. Leave this house in the next week or you and your family will suffer. If you tell anyone I was here tonight, I will kill them and you will be to blame."

I sit up so fast in my bed and see my grandmother sleeping next to me; we're in her home and I am relieved. I am sweating from head to toe, I'm breathing heavily, and I can't believe that I just awoke from a dream that felt like reality.

It's 5 AM and I refuse to fall asleep again. I just lay in bed and can't stop thinking about this vivid dream. I turn over to face my grandma and remember I'm helping work her store today so I'll have something to keep my mind off of this. I just can't stop thinking about what this dream could've meant or what it stood for. All I know is that I am glad it is over.

It is noon and my grandma's store has been slow. She brought us lunch and tells me to go wash my hands before we eat. I walk to the back of the store, passing auto accessory after auto accessory, and hundreds of multi-colored seat covers until I finally reach the small, dark bathroom located in the corner of the back of the store. I switch the light on so fast, avoiding looking into the mirror. For some reason, my heart is racing and my stomach is forming a ball of ice. I finish washing my hands and reach for the paper towels above the toilet. As I'm drying my hands, I glance into the mirror and see a shiny blade and the face of Pete.

To be continued...