Member-only story
Distortion
Andy pulled the blanket over his head, wrapping himself up like a mummy, despite the warmth of the night. His fists were tightly clenched around the blanket, holding it firmly in place on top of him. Small, salty tears somehow managed to squeeze out through the corners of his eyes, even though he had them squeezed shut so tightly that they ached.
“It’s not real, it’s not real…” he repeatedly muttered to himself, over and over. Like he could somehow convince himself if only he repeated it enough times.
He tried hard to convince himself that what he had seen was only a figment of his imagination. But he knew that the terrible violence he witnessed had indeed happened. He could feel it in his bones.
Andy might have only been nine years old, but he was wise beyond his years. He instinctively knew that he needed to tell somebody about what he had seen. But who could he tell?
He thought about waking his parents. But they would never believe him when he described what he had seen. Not with everything that had happened over the last couple of years. And besides, if he went into his parents’ room and woke them, his dad Roy would be angry with him. Again. Andy couldn’t take that, not right now.
He thought about calling 9–1–1 to report what he had witnessed. However, Andy felt that it would likely lead to a bunch of trouble.
