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Rated: 13+ · Book · Mystery · #1627598
a dream i had one night - i think it makes a good story - original, i think. :)
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#680255 added December 17, 2009 at 7:44pm
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CHAPTER ONE
I saw him steal the knives. I wasn't day dreaming, or imagining, or having hallucinations or anything weird like that. At least I don't think so.





I was standing in the butcher's, waiting in line behind some wrinkly old woman with a straw basket, requesting meat after meat - I swear I had been there for hours on end. I suppose it was near Christmas. The butcher's always got busy during holiday time. The craziest thing was, was that I didn't expect to see Paul at the butcher's. I was just in town, there by some insane crusade, a fight I'd obviously lost with my Mum. She'd wanted me to do the shopping, since she was busy at home doing God knows what, probably sweeping floors or polishing toilet seats. So obviously I had to do it. Not my father who was "working" downstairs, or my fourteen year old brother Brett, and definitely not Paul. Mum drove us in, and dropped us off, then went back home. I waltzed unhappily towards the supermarket with a credit card hot in my back pocket, burning through my jean shorts, while my Brett and Paul delightfully ran for the beach, Brett and his weird obsession with hats and sunnies and Paul with his scary obession with action movies and fake guns.





I was quickly shifting my weight from one foot to the other, flicking the credit card in my fingers, looking with disgust at the tank of live lobsters and grinding my teeth together, all at the same time, when, while watching the tentacles and their moving orange legs, I saw a figure moving behind, blurry with the water. I couldn't quite see, but I knew that behind the tank was where the butcher's did all their work, cutting up the cows... I reached up on my tip-toes, and saw.. PAUL??? He was bent over slightly, obviously suspcious. What the hell was he doing HERE? AT THE BUTCHERS?? I frowned, so confused. I blinked, thinking that maybe I was imagining him there. But no, he was deinfitely there. He opened his jacket, and reached up to grab a massive knife. It was only then I realised nobody could see him, and he was standing below where all the knives were hanging on hooks. I couldn't believe it. I just COULDN'T BELIEVE IT. He was so quick, too. He heard someone coming, zipped up his jacket, and then disappeared sneakily out the back door. I was dumbstuck. I couldn't even hear, even when the guy at the counter was calling me to come forward. A few moments after he left, I stared at the lobsters again, and then contemplated leaving. Finding Paul and asking him WHAT THE HELL HE NEEDED A BUTCHER'S KNIFE FOR. An explaination was looming forward in the back of my mind, but I refused to think about it.





'M'am? Excuse me? M'am?' the man, with a scruffy goatee and about twenty-five, looked bewildered. I snapped back into reality.





'Yes, yes,' I said, and stepped forward. He looked at me weirdly.





'You alright?' he asked me, a mixture of suspicion and concern crossing his face.





'Yep, fine,' I said, and nodded, not looking at him. I felt everyone in the butcher's look at me. I rocked back on my heels, then back to my toes.





'S'what can I do for you?' he asked, getting back into business mode.





'Well,' I said, reaching into my pocket at the front to pull out a crumpled piece of paper. 'I have a list.'





'Yeah? No worries,' he said, as I handed him the paper. 'Right away.'





I looked out the window at the park, waiting to catch a glimpse of Paul while he collected all the meat. It wasn't long before he had it all packed into bags and waiting at the counter.





'Oh, right,' I said, my cheeks flaming. I handed him the credit card and he looked at the back. He smiled suddenly. 'Shopping for your Mum?' he asked, amused.





I bit my lip and frowned. Best to not ask him how he knew that. Mum was probably a regular customer here. 'Uh, yeah, yeah... Christmas, you know...'





Why, oh, why, did I say that? Of course he knew it was Christmas.





He chuckled once. 'Yeah.'





That was it for me. I scanned the card, and left with the bags of shopping pretty much all the way up my arm. I waited outside, while Mum was supposed to be here.





I sat down on the seat, ignoring the looks from passer-bys. I was consumed with thoughts of Paul and the knives, and because they were supposed to meet me here seven minutes ago, a horrible, gut-renching feeling started churning in the depths of my stomach. I stood up, and let the bags fall to the seat. I looked around furtively, all the way down the street, and across to the park. Over the hill of the park was the beach, and that was where Paul and Brett were supposed to be. My heart started pounding as my mind automatically started churning out pictures that I didn't want to think about. Brett in the bushes, blood pouring from him, Paul standing there looking murderous with his blood-stained butcher's knife... or Brett floating out to sea round the cliff, where nobody could see him; a pool of blood surrounding him in the water and deep gashes where Paul had stabbed him. My mind started thinking that maybe it wasn't just Brett, maybe it was the entire beach. I saw Paul running around with blood-lust in his eyes, slicing people's heads off as they reached for their mobiles to call the Police and the Ambulance while their wives and children lay slaughtered on the sand...





I was so terrified by then that I whipped up my mobile and called Mum. She answered on the first ring.





'Mum, Mum!' I yelled into the phone.





'April? What, what, what is it?' she panicked, hearing the panic in my voice.





'Mum, where's Brett and... and, um, Paul?' it was hard to breathe the name out through my teeth.





'They're... in the car with me,' Mum said uncertainly. 'I saw them at the fish and chip shop on my way here, so we bought some chips and I picked them up. Why? What's wrong, April?'





'N-n-nothing,' I stammered, trying to slow my heart down. I imagined Paul in the car, itching toward his knife in his jacket, Mum and Brett in the car with him. 'C-can you just come and... pick me up?'





'I'm on my way there, now. I'll just be a sec.'





'Ok, bye.'





'Bye.'





I hung up, and grabbed all the shopping.











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