You Saved Me
Nightmares
There he was.
The man dressed in dark clothes, most likely black, hunched over the bed, one arm completely stiff, holding down her mother while his other arm kept going up and down in a swift fluid motion.
She would have gasped or cried out, “Don’t hurt my mommy!” but she was paralyzed to the spot in the closet, slits about half an a inch wide for her to see the horrible fate of her, now dead, mother.
Brittany Shay, 8 years old, stood terrified in her parent’s bedroom in their closet in her pink and purple matching pajama set and blonde hair pulled up into a high pony tail on top of her head like her mother always thought looked adorable on her.
After the guys arm stopped coming down in a swift movement, he let his other arm relax slightly for a few seconds before taking it fully away from the lying figure in the bed.
He turned his back towards the closet but then slowly did a full circle of the room, before smiling maliciously at the closet and sang quietly, “Come out, come out, wherever you are!” while taking slow steps towards her hiding place, allowing blood to drip from the tip of the knife onto the cream colored carpet.
Silent tears rolled down her cheeks as she realized her fate.
She did the only thing she could do, kneel down and start to pray silently and swiftly.
I’m sorry God! I’m sorry. Please help me. I promise I’ll eat all my vegetables and listen to daddy whenever he tells me do something. I promise! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!
And that’s when the closet door flew open, revealing the darkly dressed and tall figure of the man who had a small scar right above the left side of his lip, making it look like he had somewhat of a smile on that side of his face.
“NO! NO! NO! DON’T HURT ME! STOP! DADDY! MOMMY! HELP!”
Right as his hand touched her, she threw herself forward into a sitting position, eyes opened wide to reveal two semi-familiar figures standing in the light of the room.
The man sitting on her bed, wrapping his arms around her while the women stood leaning up against the wall with a scowl on her face.
“It’s ok. It’s ok. You’re safe. It’s ok.” the man, also said to be her “father” cooed into her ear as he leaned forward and embraced the now 16 year old girl in a hug.
She heart raced and she could hear her heartbeat in her ears while her “father” still held her. Sweat trickled down her neck, causing her to get goose bumps when the water droplets were mixed with the cool night air.
He rocked her back and forth saying, “It’s just a nightmare. It’s ok. You’re safe. You’re safe.”
After about a half hour of his rocking her back and forth and allowing the images in her head to vanish somewhat and her heartbeat become normal again, the two adults left the room, desperately needing to get some sleep.
But Brittany…she was awake.
Awake for the rest of day.
That was how she normally woke up. It was more frequent years ago, practically everyday,
but as the years passed by it seemed to come three or four times a week.
“Daniel, I don’t know how much longer I can deal with this. I’m sorry for what happened to her, but honestly I’m gonna die too if I don’t get enough sleep!” the women’s somewhat muffled voice said, causing Brittany to lay down and turn onto her side, her back towards the wall that the two rooms shared.
“But Margaret, we can’t just have her shipped off. She needs a family. We’re her family now.”
“I know. But it’s just getting too hard. Why don’t we get another case and give her to another foster family. Maybe one’s that are insomniacs. We need to be able to work outside of making her feel sane.”
“I guess you’re right. I have a feeling I might be losing my job soon anyways because of my lack of cooperation. We’ll call first thing in the morning.” Brittany heard the man agree quite quickly to his wife’s reasoning.
Great, another family. Just what I want. Maybe the next one’s will have a pool.
><
“So who am I and what’s my story?” the 16 year old, blonde haired, blue eyed girl asked, arm leaning on the windowsill of the car and looking at the somewhat familiar houses pass by her for the last time.
“Brittany….” the red headed women in a light blue skirt suit sighed out while taking a left towards the airport.
“I actually get to use my real name for once?!” she asked back, sarcasm dripping from every word, not even moving her head to look at the woman beside her.
“I’m sorry hun. But no. You’re Trisha Coppers. You’re parents died in a fire. You’re dad got you out and then went back in to get you’re mother and then the house collapsed on them.” the women responded.
“How heroic.” Brittany mumbled from beside her.
“Come on Brittany. Don’t be like that. And I actually have some good news about ‘his’ whereabouts.” the woman responded, having a small smile form on her face since Brittany actually looked over at her for the first time throughout the hour car ride.
“He’s said to have been spotted. So maybe you’ll be able to go back and have a normal life in a few months.” the women continued after not hearing Brittany say anything for a few minutes.
“Laura…” Brittany said with a stern voice. “Don’t get my hopes up. Are you serious?”
“Yes. I wouldn’t lie about this. Now, you’ll be flown to California. You’re going to be living with a man, he’s widowed, named Robert Tanner. We figured we’d put you somewhere where there’s a lot of people and a lot of activity. So, have fun in LA.” Laura said with a warm smile but it quickly dropped when she saw that Brittany had a skeptical look on her face.
“What?” Laura asked defensively as she parked the car in a parking garage and whipped off her sunglasses to get a look at the girl next to her.
“What’s the catch?” was all Brittany responded with.
“There’s no-” Laura started but stopped once Brittany raised one eyebrow at her and gave her a look.
She looked down to her lap and fumbled with her sunglasses, then sighed and looked up and said, “You’re going to be enrolled in a private school. But only because we don’t want to take our chances. LA may be big to some people, but if he’s that hell bent on finding you, it won’t be hard. Trust me. Psycho’s are like that. They don’t stop until their caught.”
“Well, that’s always good to hear.” Brittany said sarcastically and then opened up the passenger door to exit the car.
Laura sighed again and popped the trunk, and exited the car as well.
“Do I have a job here?” Brittany asked casually while grabbing her two duffel bags and one suitcase.
You don’t tend to keep a lot of stuff when you’re moving all the time and when something reminds you of a past memory that wasn’t the greatest, you tend to want to get rid of it.
“Besides being a normal teenage girl and attempting to have fun while scooping the area for a familiar and yet terrifying face….nope.” Laura rattled off while slamming the trunk shut and leading the way towards the airport.
It was pretty much silent as the two walked through the airport, waiting for the announcement of her flight number.
“FLIGHT 496 TO CALIFORNIA. WE ARE NOW BOARDING.”
“Well, I guess this is it. Just be on the lookout and if you need anything, call me. And I’ll call you if there are any leads. Ok?” Laura asked her and then pulled her into a hug.
Brittany smiled somewhat, happy to at least feel some type of happiness since that horrible day 8 years ago, soon to be 9.
Her birthday was coming up, which also marked the day of her parents death. Needless to say, birthdays were no longer her favorite holiday.
“Ok. Should I call when we back to…David?” she asked curiously, trying to remember what her 13th father type figure would be for who knew how long.
“Robert. And yes. Please do. Just to make sure you got there safely.” Laura said, pushing back some of her hair as an excuse not to hug the teenager again that was standing before her.
Brittany smiled one last time towards Laura before turning around and heading off to the gate.
“Try to have some fun!” Laura’s voice rang through the airport.
Brittany looked back at her while handing her ticket to the woman and nodded her head.
Fat Chance.
She grabbed her ticket back from the women and boarded the plane.
Have fun? Have fun?! How can I possibly have fun when my name is now Trisha Coppers and I’m running from a psycho killer that killed my parents 8 years ago. Yeah, some fun I’ll have.
The man dressed in dark clothes, most likely black, hunched over the bed, one arm completely stiff, holding down her mother while his other arm kept going up and down in a swift fluid motion.
She would have gasped or cried out, “Don’t hurt my mommy!” but she was paralyzed to the spot in the closet, slits about half an a inch wide for her to see the horrible fate of her, now dead, mother.
Brittany Shay, 8 years old, stood terrified in her parent’s bedroom in their closet in her pink and purple matching pajama set and blonde hair pulled up into a high pony tail on top of her head like her mother always thought looked adorable on her.
After the guys arm stopped coming down in a swift movement, he let his other arm relax slightly for a few seconds before taking it fully away from the lying figure in the bed.
He turned his back towards the closet but then slowly did a full circle of the room, before smiling maliciously at the closet and sang quietly, “Come out, come out, wherever you are!” while taking slow steps towards her hiding place, allowing blood to drip from the tip of the knife onto the cream colored carpet.
Silent tears rolled down her cheeks as she realized her fate.
She did the only thing she could do, kneel down and start to pray silently and swiftly.
I’m sorry God! I’m sorry. Please help me. I promise I’ll eat all my vegetables and listen to daddy whenever he tells me do something. I promise! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!
And that’s when the closet door flew open, revealing the darkly dressed and tall figure of the man who had a small scar right above the left side of his lip, making it look like he had somewhat of a smile on that side of his face.
“NO! NO! NO! DON’T HURT ME! STOP! DADDY! MOMMY! HELP!”
Right as his hand touched her, she threw herself forward into a sitting position, eyes opened wide to reveal two semi-familiar figures standing in the light of the room.
The man sitting on her bed, wrapping his arms around her while the women stood leaning up against the wall with a scowl on her face.
“It’s ok. It’s ok. You’re safe. It’s ok.” the man, also said to be her “father” cooed into her ear as he leaned forward and embraced the now 16 year old girl in a hug.
She heart raced and she could hear her heartbeat in her ears while her “father” still held her. Sweat trickled down her neck, causing her to get goose bumps when the water droplets were mixed with the cool night air.
He rocked her back and forth saying, “It’s just a nightmare. It’s ok. You’re safe. You’re safe.”
After about a half hour of his rocking her back and forth and allowing the images in her head to vanish somewhat and her heartbeat become normal again, the two adults left the room, desperately needing to get some sleep.
But Brittany…she was awake.
Awake for the rest of day.
That was how she normally woke up. It was more frequent years ago, practically everyday,
but as the years passed by it seemed to come three or four times a week.
“Daniel, I don’t know how much longer I can deal with this. I’m sorry for what happened to her, but honestly I’m gonna die too if I don’t get enough sleep!” the women’s somewhat muffled voice said, causing Brittany to lay down and turn onto her side, her back towards the wall that the two rooms shared.
“But Margaret, we can’t just have her shipped off. She needs a family. We’re her family now.”
“I know. But it’s just getting too hard. Why don’t we get another case and give her to another foster family. Maybe one’s that are insomniacs. We need to be able to work outside of making her feel sane.”
“I guess you’re right. I have a feeling I might be losing my job soon anyways because of my lack of cooperation. We’ll call first thing in the morning.” Brittany heard the man agree quite quickly to his wife’s reasoning.
Great, another family. Just what I want. Maybe the next one’s will have a pool.
><
“So who am I and what’s my story?” the 16 year old, blonde haired, blue eyed girl asked, arm leaning on the windowsill of the car and looking at the somewhat familiar houses pass by her for the last time.
“Brittany….” the red headed women in a light blue skirt suit sighed out while taking a left towards the airport.
“I actually get to use my real name for once?!” she asked back, sarcasm dripping from every word, not even moving her head to look at the woman beside her.
“I’m sorry hun. But no. You’re Trisha Coppers. You’re parents died in a fire. You’re dad got you out and then went back in to get you’re mother and then the house collapsed on them.” the women responded.
“How heroic.” Brittany mumbled from beside her.
“Come on Brittany. Don’t be like that. And I actually have some good news about ‘his’ whereabouts.” the woman responded, having a small smile form on her face since Brittany actually looked over at her for the first time throughout the hour car ride.
“He’s said to have been spotted. So maybe you’ll be able to go back and have a normal life in a few months.” the women continued after not hearing Brittany say anything for a few minutes.
“Laura…” Brittany said with a stern voice. “Don’t get my hopes up. Are you serious?”
“Yes. I wouldn’t lie about this. Now, you’ll be flown to California. You’re going to be living with a man, he’s widowed, named Robert Tanner. We figured we’d put you somewhere where there’s a lot of people and a lot of activity. So, have fun in LA.” Laura said with a warm smile but it quickly dropped when she saw that Brittany had a skeptical look on her face.
“What?” Laura asked defensively as she parked the car in a parking garage and whipped off her sunglasses to get a look at the girl next to her.
“What’s the catch?” was all Brittany responded with.
“There’s no-” Laura started but stopped once Brittany raised one eyebrow at her and gave her a look.
She looked down to her lap and fumbled with her sunglasses, then sighed and looked up and said, “You’re going to be enrolled in a private school. But only because we don’t want to take our chances. LA may be big to some people, but if he’s that hell bent on finding you, it won’t be hard. Trust me. Psycho’s are like that. They don’t stop until their caught.”
“Well, that’s always good to hear.” Brittany said sarcastically and then opened up the passenger door to exit the car.
Laura sighed again and popped the trunk, and exited the car as well.
“Do I have a job here?” Brittany asked casually while grabbing her two duffel bags and one suitcase.
You don’t tend to keep a lot of stuff when you’re moving all the time and when something reminds you of a past memory that wasn’t the greatest, you tend to want to get rid of it.
“Besides being a normal teenage girl and attempting to have fun while scooping the area for a familiar and yet terrifying face….nope.” Laura rattled off while slamming the trunk shut and leading the way towards the airport.
It was pretty much silent as the two walked through the airport, waiting for the announcement of her flight number.
“FLIGHT 496 TO CALIFORNIA. WE ARE NOW BOARDING.”
“Well, I guess this is it. Just be on the lookout and if you need anything, call me. And I’ll call you if there are any leads. Ok?” Laura asked her and then pulled her into a hug.
Brittany smiled somewhat, happy to at least feel some type of happiness since that horrible day 8 years ago, soon to be 9.
Her birthday was coming up, which also marked the day of her parents death. Needless to say, birthdays were no longer her favorite holiday.
“Ok. Should I call when we back to…David?” she asked curiously, trying to remember what her 13th father type figure would be for who knew how long.
“Robert. And yes. Please do. Just to make sure you got there safely.” Laura said, pushing back some of her hair as an excuse not to hug the teenager again that was standing before her.
Brittany smiled one last time towards Laura before turning around and heading off to the gate.
“Try to have some fun!” Laura’s voice rang through the airport.
Brittany looked back at her while handing her ticket to the woman and nodded her head.
Fat Chance.
She grabbed her ticket back from the women and boarded the plane.
Have fun? Have fun?! How can I possibly have fun when my name is now Trisha Coppers and I’m running from a psycho killer that killed my parents 8 years ago. Yeah, some fun I’ll have.