Mommy, Who's the Bogeyman?

Chapter 1

He sat in a heap. A great hero now fallen, his breaths shallow and shaky. Is it my fault? The answer burned inside my head.

He acknowledged me and a weak smile spread across his face. He stood up, his back slouched.

"Were they perfect?" His voice was gruff, just barely audible.

The room around me spun, the darkness washing over me. I took a deep breath. "Just lovely."

He stared at me, I chose to look away. I don't know what to feel. So I feel nothing.

He takes notice of my hesitance. "Interesting. I remember the time I first found y-" He stopped, his voice haulting abruptly.

I know perfectly well why he stopped. It still hurts to think about it. Yet, pain is not what I should feel. I should brush it off my shoulder, into the dark corners of my mind.

Silence engulfed us both. Neither of us had anything to say. So we didn't say anything else.

*  *  *

His chest fell and rose, tugging at the sheets, draped over his bare abdomen. Dark brown hair, shielded his forehead.

What am I doing? This isn't the child.

I watched as the teenager turned to his side, his bed creaking under his shifted weight. I should be watching over my child. Not this one. Everything in my body told me I shouldn't be here, yet I ignore it. Against my will.

The boy opened his eyes slowly, his breathing very shallow.

He sensed me watching him.

Slowly, he sat up, glancing around the room. The yellow walls were masked with the darkness of the night and he hugged his bed spread close to him.

I scratched. Once. Twice. He swung his legs out from his covers and cut off the third scratch. He bolted to the light switch and pressed his shoulder blades to his door. The light stung and I disappeared, tired of not being with the boy.

*  *  *

"So what was all the commotion about last night?" A tall man looked down at the teen. His green eyes searched the child's face, not moving until he got an answer. I wonder if the child picked up his stare from his father.

The house reeked of eggs and bacon, the smell tingled in my nose.

"Nothing," The boy looked down at his plate, sheilding his face from his family.

"Are you sure hun? You woke us up twice," His mother cut the silence beginning to grow around the table.

"Mom I'm thirteen. I'm not a baby."

The voice I had yearned to hear finally sliced through the thick morning air. "Did you see a monster?" He sounded so hopeful. It made me laugh.

"No you dweeb! There is no such thing as monsters," The boy's voice grew louder.

"Marty that's enough," The father cut in.

Marty just smirked up at him. He turned to his younger brother. "Wait, I almost forgot, they are real! They have long claws, red eyes. They sleep under your bed and the minute your head hits the pillow, they reach up and-"

"Marty!" His sister yelled, obviously not wanting to hear him anymore. "You're scaring Alex!"

The little boy sat, picking at his food while the older siblings got up and put the dishes away.

This is what I wanted. It made me smirk. The slightest scratch can evoke such fear. Make scary stories spread like wild fire, engulfing every tree in sight. This is what I needed.

Bogey will be so proud.

*  *  *

Bogey's POV

He sits in the corner, scratching at the floor. All I can do is sit and watch. Yet, I stand up.

A tune escapes my lips, the soft hum echoing through the darkness. "How was it today?" I am so proud.

He turns and looks at me, his pale eyes almost white. Such a beautiful tranformation. My eyes have become dull and grey, their shine fading away with my strength. But I stand tall.

His smile grows wide, his teeth shining, despite there is no light. "It's funny how scared a child can be." His answer is simple. I know he isn't speaking his mind. It angers me. All I have done for him. Everything I have gone through. And he has the audacity to feel?

It is repulsive.

The soft song plays, the record cutting in between lines.

"Hush-here-Bogeyman," it softly fades in and out, static making an appearance. The perfect melody. The song to, is breaking.

"I suppose it was a good day," my voice is low, a hiss echoing through it. My apprentice has picked up this 'accent' also.

He shrugs it off. I turn and retreat to my corner, anger filling me. He has so much potential. He has so much ahead of him. And he will let this family stop him?

My thoughts fly through my head. He is bound to this child. He has no choice. I cannot do anything for him. My time is coming faster than he knows, and he shrugs off my questions. I pity him.

I pity him for what he will become. I pity myself. For not fulfilling my potential.

A laugh escapes my throat and he does not budge. His scratching continues and his tall silhouette bobs back and forth, in rhythm with the music.

I sigh. This child he is bound to will be the life or death of him. This child is now his. The world revolves around their connection, good or bad.

Seth controls his future.

Erm so I apologize for this chapter. It is late, I have a headache, and I am currently running on a can of Mountain Dew #nonsponsored XD Anyway, this new writing style is a little wonky for me so I'm adjusting to it and I apologize if it sounds weird. Everything will be a little confusing at first but don't worry, it will get better. Thanks for the support and STARDAPPLE03 for nagging me. Love ya!