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Author: 1306
Rating: PG (hints of abuse)
Challenge: Chocolate Custard #13 (Parameters//Ani DiFranco), Toffee #13 (Wild Goose Chase)
Word Count: 711
Story Arc: Mundane
Title: Teenage Nightmares
Summary: Some ghosts of the past won't let Connor be.
A/N: Takes place when Connor has settled down with a family of his own in Mundane. If it hasn't been implied or shown yet, Tracy is his daughter, and she's about eight years old in this piece.

I'm also finally going to finish Toffee--after so many months, I believe :D

It felt like the same dream from nights ago. Only this time, it was proving to be worse.

"Tracy? Heleane?" Connor stumbled through the hallways of his house, dazed and confused. The walls seemed to twist and convulse with every step he took. Shadows swirled overhead, following him deeper into his house.

Strange. He didn't remember the halls to be this long.

"Tracy? Heleane? Are you there? Anyone?" Connor kept calling out to what felt like thin air. He felt his strength leaving him; his hips started to buckle and his legs felt tired all of a sudden.

And then he heard the screaming.

"No, Connor, please don't!" it was Heleane's. "I didn't mean to, please! Connor, no!"

Like a bad reception, the sound echoed in and out through the hallways. The chase seemed endless. And then--

He stopped in front of what looked like their bedroom. The room was trashed beyond recognition. Strips of wallpaper dangled from the walls; some were scattered all over the floor. The pillows and bedsheets were on the floor, and Connor could make out dark red stains all over them. The windows were boarded up and the bathroom door had come off its hinges.

And then there was Tracy. She curled up in a corner of the room, gently weeping to herself. The sound echoed through the room, and soon turned into a low, throbbing wail.


And in a flash, her body burst into flames. Connor could remember the screaming; it would never leave him. He spun around and saw the wallpaper peeling themselves off. He looked down.

Then he noticed the blood on his hands.

He looked up. A mirror was now in front of him. But instead of his reflection, he saw something else, something much worse. He saw his father.

There was a grin on his face which shook Connor to his bones. The face twisted and melted; skin bubbled into a bloody mess, while the eyes drained out of their sockets.

The whispers followed suit. "You're never going to escape me, Connor. We're all too identical. Like father, like son, isn't it?"

Connor wanted to yell. But he couldn't.


And that was the moment when he woke up, cold sweat dripping down the sides of his face. He was sweating down to his bare chest; he could feel the stinging cold come over him. He breathed heavily and shook his head.

He quickly got to his feet and made for the door. He turned right and headed straight for the door at the end of the hallway. His pace slowed down as he neared it, and just a few inches from the knob, he pricked up his ears and listened.

Silence. Deathly, unnerving silence.

He slowly turned the knob. The door opened with a creak, and Connor was greeted with the sight of Tracy sleeping soundly in her bed. The pastel pinks of her room were darkened in favor of the dark blue of the night.

Connor walked slowly into her room, almost dragging his feet. Once he was near, he sat at the edge of the bed and took a look at his daughter.

She was beautiful, even when she was asleep.

Connor felt his insides quake, and no sooner was he driven to tears. He scooped Tracy up into his arms and wrapped himself around her. He sat there for minutes, but it felt longer than that.

As for Tracy, it must've felt strange and disheartening to wake up to the sight of his dad in a mess of tears.


Connor wiped the tears from his eyes and took a look at her. "T-Tracy? I..."

"What's wrong, Dad?"

Connor felt his stomach clench. He brushed one hand down the back of her head, gently combing through her shoulder-length hair. He looked at her.

"Nothing. Daddy just loves you, that's what."

He pressed her against his chest and embraced her even more. All she could do was to return the favor and find the words an eight-year old could tell his dad.

"I love you, Dad," she whispered. Connor smiled.

"I love you too, honey."

Connor breathed in the cool of the night. He smiled. He's not going to end up like him. It's different this time.


( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
Jul. 8th, 2012 01:59 pm (UTC)
This was extremely well-written. The dream sequence was terrifying in a way that only dream sequences can be, and I liked how you were able to imply the abuse instead of outright describing it, which made it all the more creepy. The last scene was both heartbreaking and heartwarming at the same time. I do hope things turn out well for Connor and his family.
Jul. 8th, 2012 07:44 pm (UTC)
Aw, man D: Poor Connor! That must have been completely terrifying! You did such a good job conveying the horror of the dream and then it's such a tender moment between Tracy and her dad at the end :)

Just one little thing: there were two times (I think) in the second part where you use his to refer to Tracy, which confused me a little - both in a 'his dad' instant.
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )


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