“Three days. Sweet dreams.”
I guess that’s the best place to start to explain what just happened. I wrote those four words. Those four words are what sparked Damien’s slow descent into madness. Those four words slowly destroyed his entire life. Those four words lead to the death of everyone he loved, the death of everything he thought he knew, the death of his sanity, the end of his life.
And now, those four words come back to haunt me.
Two hours ago, I got a phone call. I picked it up, and the first thing I heard were those four words whispered to me - “Three days. Sweet dreams.”
I don’t know how long I stood there, hands shaking, feeling sick to my stomach. I eventually found my voice, “You son of a bitch… who the hell is this?”
And then they were gone. I practically collapsed to my apartment’s floor. Was it an insane fan? Was it just some prank? Was it…
My mind flew to everyone close to me – my parents, my brothers, my roommate, Judith. If this was more than just a prank, it meant they were all in danger. Damien’s life was destroyed because he didn’t take things seriously enough, early enough. A lesson I would learn from.
I called the police. I explained the situation, that I was concerned for my safety, and asked if they could find out who had called me. After all, the number was still in my phone’s history. They were kind enough to do so for me.
The call was from a goddamn prepaid cell phone, impossible to really trace.
The police obviously can’t do anything for what could potentially be a simple prank, but I’m on alert now. I’ve warned my loved ones. I’m going to keep one hell of an eye on them for the next three days. Until Wednesday comes and goes, I’ll remain on edge, ready for whatever may happen.
I refuse to let my life become a horror story. I write those, I don’t live them.