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Marcus still wakes screaming in the night, the nightmare as fresh in his newly conscious mind as it was in sleep. However, the dreams aren’t as frequent as they were when he was younger, like the one he had at eight years old. “In the dream I was at my family reunion and there was a little boy maybe twelve years old, and he was chasing us around with a butcher knife,” Marcus said.
Marcus and his brother ran through this dream reunion, past relatives chatting and eating chicken and potato salad off paper plates, but no one else seemed to see this boy who chased them, this boy with pitch black eyes. Then the boy caught them. “He killed my brother and he came after me,” Marcus said. The knife-wielding, black-eyed twelve-year-old pounced on top of Marcus and raised the knife, still wet with his brother’s blood. “Right before he killed me I woke up.”
The dream fear clung to him like wet clothing, and Marcus realized he wasn’t alone. “Right on top of me sat the black-eyed boy from my dream,” Marcus said. “He was holding me down and I tried so hard to get away from him but I couldn’t move.”
The boy from the nightmare raised his hand and slapped Marcus’s left cheek. As the sting shot through him, Marcus sat up and the boy vanished. But Marcus knew the boy was real. “My cheek stung and I was crying so hard, and I was so afraid of what had happened.”
He tried wake his big sister, but she wouldn’t move, so he crawled in bed next to her and cried the rest of the night; he was too afraid to go back to sleep; years later, he’s still afraid. “I remember exactly what the boy looked like,” Marcus said. “He had auburn hair, was wearing a red, black and green-stripped sweater, and of course had completely black eyes.”
Reposted with permission.