"You started seeing them when you were five. They always said that you were strange. Your parents, I mean. You always had stories to tell. About the ghost boy, for instance. His name was Tommy. You were scared of him at first, he was all hacked up, his mother had chopped him up with an axe. Not good enough of course, or else he'd have been in pieces. Anyway, whenever you saw him on the street when you were walking with your mother, you would always say; 'Mommy look at the boy. That's Tommy. His mommy chopped him up with an axe.' That didn't go very well with your mother, of course. That didn't go very well with her at all. She told you to stop making up such terrible stories. You finally realized, too, one day, that you had to be careful about what you said. You over heard your parents talking one night about sending you to a psychiatrist to get your head checked if this kept up. That's when you stopped. You drew rainbows and ponies, not bloody knives and dead boys. And...-You finally managed to shut them out." |
Submission Name: Jimmy Devlin, City
